


Housemates

by hevringssi (Sokkusu)



Series: FE3H: One True Family [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mild Angst, Mild Sexual Content, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:22:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 52,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21978772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sokkusu/pseuds/hevringssi
Summary: This is a story of how Ashe meets Caspar and Linhardt, how they lived together as housemates, how they came to support each other through their personal struggles, and how they grew to love each other.
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Linhardt von Hevring, Caspar von Bergliez/Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert, Caspar von Bergliez/Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Linhardt von Hevring, Caspar von Bergliez/Linhardt von Hevring
Series: FE3H: One True Family [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1582117
Comments: 10
Kudos: 82





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello.
> 
> I am not good at writing, but I am here to have fun and to cater into my self-indulgence for the ot3.
> 
> *There will be more characters and side relationships that I'll tag as I go along.  
> *Linhardt is non-binary and uses he/him and they/them pronouns. They will be used consistently per chapter.  
> *Please eat before or have something to eat while you begin to read this.  
> *Thank you to tartaupom, Tochisuke, and vixen for beta-ing 
> 
> Enjoy.

A rich and creamy scent fills the kitchen on this chilly winter morning. Two eggs are cracked into a glass bowl, followed by a sift of sugar, a drop of vanilla extract, and a stir of other powdery goodness. Big glops of melted butter pool into the mixture, and all of it gets poured into a pastry bag. The filled pastry bag gets shoved into the refrigerator for about an hour. Once that time has passed, the oven has preheated and the mold tray has been thinly coated with butter.

Taking the utmost care with retrieving the pastry bag from the fridge, 21-year old Ashe Ubert is filled with excitement when he begins to fill in the mold for some delicious madeleines. As soon as he finishes, he grabs his oven mitts, settles the tray into the oven with extra caution, and slams the door shut. He spends the next ten minutes watching the oven, his eyes sparkling in awe while the batter rises into a soft crisp. The oven’s timer then goes off with a loud ding. Opening the oven and being greeted by a warm buttery smell, Ashe takes the tray of madeleines out and sets it on a nearby counter to cool.

As he prepares to clean the kitchen, Ashe jolts at the sudden ring from the doorbell. He swerves around, takes off his oven mitts, and makes his way to the door. Checking the security monitor on the wall, he sees nothing but a chest clothed in a dark coat with a red scarf on top. He lets out a chuckle when he recognizes the person to be his landlord, shortly clearing his throat and straightening his appearance before he opens the door. “Good morning, Mr. Hrym!”

“Ubert,” a tall man with dirty blond hair tied into a loose ponytail greets in a curt manner, his face wearing a dull expression. Ashe was initially intimidated by his landlord due to the man’s height and awfully cold demeanor, but he attempted to interact with him by showing his kindness. While Jeritza von Hrym rarely is one to show much emotion, he managed to warm up to young Ashe after an exchange with his older half-sister Mercedes, who was Ashe’s senior in his early college days.

Mr. Hrym excuses himself for the intrusion. Ashe moves aside as he allows his landlord in, but the man holds up his hand to signify that he did not plan on coming into the house. “Tomorrow,” he speaks, his voice audibly gruff and low. “10:30AM. Will you be available?”

“Oh. Why, yes,” Ashe responds. “Anything I can help with?”

“Two potential tenants will be visiting. They want to see this place. They are together,” the landlord informs before his eyes widen. “What is that smell?”

“Oh, I just baked some madeleines,” Ashe tells him. He gestures towards the kitchen, but stumbles backwards when the man stomps his way in. A wide grin spreads across his face when Mr. Hrym stands in front of the counter. The landlord gives him an expectant look, silently asking for permission to take one of the small cakes. Ashe nods before a sudden chill from outside reminds him to close the door.

“My,” Mr. Hrym utters after he took a bite. A slight yet soft smile graces his face as he continues to eat. “Scrumptious.”

“You're welcome to have some more,” Ashe offers before he recalls the main reason of his landlord's visit. “So, you want me to show the visitors around?”

“Yes,” Mr. Hrym confirms, helping himself to a second madeleine... And a third. “I will be occupied with an appointment, so I will not be back until an hour later. I trust that with your good manners you will make them feel welcome.”

“Why, yes. Of course. I'll make sure to clean the empty bedrooms after work tonight.”

“Thank you, for both your cooperation and the sweet delights,” Mr. Hrym expresses before he begins to leave. He waves dismissively, informing Ashe that being walked out isn't necessary. “Good day.”

“Same to you!” Ashe says, waving goodbye. “Tell Mercedes I said ‘Hello’!”

Mr. Hrym's expression reverts back to its somberness. “Tell her yourself.”

Ashe lets out an awkward chuckle after his landlord leaves. Once the man was gone, he returns his attention to tidying up the kitchen.

Ever since he lived on the second floor of Mr. Hrym's small penthouse, Ashe has spent most of his days going to Fhirdiad Community College for his studies as a nutrition major. Most of his classes occupy some of his mornings while a few others take up his early afternoons. On some evenings, he goes to work at his part-time job as an assistant chef in a seafood restaurant called Fish Money.

His longtime experience with cooking started as a mere hobby and his love for food, but it later turned into a growing passion that was inspired by the restaurant’s well-known head chef and his good old friend Dedue Molinaro. Ashe has known Dedue since high school and has always admired him for his culinary talents, along with his compassion and modesty. He also has supported him throughout the years, especially during Dedue’s moment of Internet fame as a YouTube tutorial chef. After his rise to success and his graduation from one of Fódlan’s top culinary universities, Dedue decided to take it easy since the entertainment side of the culinary world did not suit his personal ideals. While Ashe did not quite understand his old friend's distaste to pursue greater ambition, he decided to follow his footsteps by applying for transfer to the school Dedue graduated from, Rowe University: School for the Culinary Arts. His application form had already been accepted and he had attended an interview involving a cooking examination to display his skills.

Knowing that his results will be reported later in the evening, Ashe was filled with anticipation as he finishes cleaning and gets ready to go to school.

_“With the final showdown, we are set for this season’s day 3 in the ultimate rivalry between the Beast of Leicester, Raphael Kirsten and the Tempest King, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd! Scheduled for three five-minute rounds in the Tailtean MMA light heavyweight division, Raphael in the red gloves and Dimitri in the blue gloves. The fight begins!”_

“Come on, Raphael…” a 21-year old man by the name of Caspar von Bergliez spurs on while he watches a fighting match on his phone during a train ride.

“Didn’t you watch this match already?” a drowsy voice inquires, followed by a yawn. Caspar laughs when some strands of emerald hair tickle his neck, the person sitting next to him resting their head on his shoulder. The person lets out another yawn before they mumble again, “I get the feeling you really miss participating in these fights.”

“Nah,” Caspar denies. “I missed this match live because I had to take care of things. Also, I’m just cheering on Raphael. Everyone in the athletic training department will always support him!” His eyes suddenly widen when said fighter gets knocked down. “Oh no! Linhardt! He lost the first round! Man, this Tempest King guy sure is something else.”

“Ugh,” the other person groans, cringing at the sight of blood dripping from the red-gloved fighter’s nose. They bury their face into Caspar’s shoulder to prevent themself from watching. “I would have enjoyed looking at the pecs of these men some more if it wasn’t for the violence and blood.”

“Aw, it’s fine if you’re still not used to this. Go back to sleep, bud,” Caspar reassures before he abruptly jumps up from his seat. He screams out in disappointment, startling the other passengers on the train. Raphael ended up being pinned down in the second round, which prompted the whole match to be over with Dimitri as the winner. “Aw, fuck. The Tempest King is too good.”

Nearly fallen over from the seat due to their overexcited friend, Linhardt slowly sits back up and smoothes out their hair. _So much for going back to sleep._ “Well, you were sure lucky you didn’t face him back then.”

“Haha, I couldn’t have anyway,” Caspar responds, bowing an apology to the other passengers before settling back down. “Different weight class, so it would take me a long time to bulk up and face him.”

“I’m still glad anyway,” Linhardt comments before turning away. “I don’t want to see you go through all that again.”

The automated voice from the train speaker announces their designated stop before Caspar is able to register what his friend said. He gives them a blank look. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” Linhardt quickly waves off as they stand up from their shared seat and gathers their belongings.

Watching his friend make their way out of the train, Caspar shrugs off their conversation before he follows them.

Both from Adrestia, Caspar von Bergliez and Linhardt von Hevring are in Faerghus for their studies at Arianrhod University. Linhardt is currently studying as a physical therapy intern at St. Seiros Hospital while Caspar has been enjoying himself as an athletic training major. Outside of his studies, Caspar has been juggling a few part-time jobs, but due to the upcoming winter break and holiday he has yet to figure out his free time schedule until the upcoming Summer. Linhardt, mostly handling their internship in the late afternoons, tends to sleep the whole morning as if they were nocturnal. In the rare cases of them ever being awake during their free time, they either read books at the local bookstore café or laze around at home.

The two of them were childhood friends since they were six-years old and have been stuck with each other throughout their youth. Some of their friends would comment about how inseparable they are and should get married, but Linhardt would always tell them that they just enjoy each other’s company. Caspar just insists that his relationship with Linhardt has always been platonic.

However, both of them cannot deny a certain underlying feeling for each other that has yet to prosper, but neither of them has bothered to consult each other about it.

“Alright, we’re here in the capital! Hello, Fhirdiad!” Caspar exclaims while giving his whole body a good stretch. Putting his hands behind his head, he looks around the train station. “So, where do we go now? Want to grab some dinner before we check the route to that house and the branch hospital?”

“Dinner sounds good,” Linhardt agrees as they start walking towards a set of stairs. “I think I’m craving for fish.”

“You're always craving for fish… with beans,” Caspar points out with a laugh. Once they reach the top of the stairs and out to the city, he takes his friend's hand. He suddenly feels breathless, his eyes zooming in on the wondrous, beautiful scenery of skyscrapers and greenery. “Hahaha! Wow! Big city! Let's go get lost instead, Lin-”

“Not so fast,” Linhardt warns, preventing their hyperactive friend from running off into who-knows-where. They pull out their phone and begin searching for nearby seafood restaurants. “Must I remind you that we're here to check things out to _not_ get lost? Not to get into whatever trouble you're trying to drag me in?”

“I kid! I kid!” Caspar reassures, swinging their joined hands. “Found anything yet?”

“Fish Money.”

Caspar nearly chokes on his spit at the name. “Hahaha! What?!”

“That one famous chef who made a lot of adorable bento tutorials on YouTube a few years ago,” Linhardt elaborates while continuing their research. “He’s currently working at a restaurant called Fish Money. Chef Dedue from Dining with Dedue.”

“Dining with Dedue?! _The_ Chef from Dining with Dedue?!” Caspar repeats, his eyes sparkling in anticipation. “Oh gods. What if that cute assistant he had in his vids is there?” 

“It’s a possibility.”

“Let’s go then!”

“One problem,” Linhardt informs as they show their phone to Caspar. “Food’s expensive.” Caspar lets out a whine when he takes a glance at the prices. Sharing the disappointment, Linhardt purses their lips in thought until they come up with a suggestion. “While I’m sure both of us have enough to pay for one main dish to share, I believe you can call a certain someone to assist us. The dessert menu looks promising.”

“Nuh-uh,” Caspar refuses, letting go of Linhardt’s hand to turn his back on him. “No way.”

“Please?”

“Nope.”

Linhardt tries to get into the other man’s line of vision, but they frown when Caspar turns his head away. Heaving a sigh, Linhardt wraps their arms around their grumpy friend and rests their chin on his shoulder. They initiate a rather nauseating attempt to act cute, but Caspar refuses to budge – though he almost let out a snicker. Linhardt, suddenly no longer in the mood to discuss anymore, decides to give up. “Oh, _fine_. Since the house we’re going to is closer from here, why don’t we go there first? Then again, we should really eat. How about you pay for whatever main dish you want and I’ll just pay for the dessert?”

Caspar contemplates the offer for a moment before he relaxes in Linhardt’s arms. “Okay, bud. You got yourself a deal.”

“Order up for Table Five!” a cheerful voice calls, followed by a bubbly giggle. A young red-haired woman in a chef's uniform receives a pat on the head from a stern-looking gentleman with dark hair tied into a short ponytail, dressed in waiting attire. The kitchen at Fish Money has been buzzing with activity since the early evening. Frying pans on the stoves have been sizzling, pots and ovens have been boiling, and dirty plates have been piling up for scrubbing and sanitizing. Waiters and hosts have been coming and going to set orders while bringing the dishes to the customers. The chefs and pâtissiers have been running back and forth while making sure the food is being cooked to perfection.

“Felix,” a blonde short-haired woman in uniform strides in. She stops before the gentleman, eyebrow raised. “What are you doing?”

“I’m on break obviously,” Felix grumbles. He gives a smile to the female chef and waves goodbye to her. His expression then drops to annoyance when he looks back at the blonde. “Do you need something, Ingrid?”

“Change your uniform. I need you on sushi duty when your break is over,” Ingrid notifies, receiving an exasperated sigh from the man. She ignores his discontent. “Also, since Annette is leaving, can you call Ashe to come back from his break?”

“Whatever,” Felix scoffs, giving a nod of acknowledgement towards Head Chef Dedue and Head Pâtissier Mercedes as he makes his way towards the employee break room.

Meanwhile, Ashe has been fidgeting with his phone at the table for the past half hour. He has been waiting for his application results from Rowe University, staring at his empty email account on the screen. While it was still early into the night and the results can be checked later, Ashe was starting to get anxious. He mentally replays the interview he went to after his application was accepted, where he surprisingly received positive feedback for his cooking. However, there is one concern that has been weighing on his mind since the interview, and it was when one of the judges had asked him:

_“What is your actual goal in the world of cooking? What is your dream?”_

During that moment, Ashe hesitated in answering.

Shaking the thought from his mind, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He hopes he will receive some news soon.

“Ashe,” Felix’s voice surprises him. He turns to see his fellow co-worker, who walks in while shedding off his uniform to change into another. “Annette just left. You’re needed back on duty.”

“Oh, I’ll be there right away,” Ashe responds, putting his phone back into his pocket and getting up from his seat.

Before Ashe starts to return to the kitchen, a tall man with vermilion hair bursts into the room. “Hey! Ashe! A customer at Table 20 wants to speak with you!”

“Uh oh,” Ashe sheepishly mutters to himself. _Another thing to worry about, I guess,_ he thinks.

“Did you spit in their food, Sylvain?” Felix questions with an accusing glare.

“Of course not. I wouldn’t sabotage our wonderful chefs’ good food,” the redhead answers, dodging a playful smack from Felix. “Actually, this customer has been the best guy I’ve served all week. He’s really friendly and easy to talk to. He’s also pretty handsome. Person’s he’s eating with is a looker too. Quite pretty if I do say so myself.”

Hearing Sylvain’s words, Ashe suddenly becomes curious. He excuses himself and makes his way towards the dining area. As soon as he gets closer to the table in question, he is greeted by the sight of two people. The one on the left is a blue-haired man, seemingly energetic as he stuffs his face with dinner rolls. The other person on the right is someone with long green hair and a tiny bun knotted in the back. They display their table manners with poise compared to their dining partner. 

Sylvain's taste in people was actually on-point this time. Ashe finds himself feeling a little stunned at how attractive these two customers were. His breath nearly gets caught in his throat when his eyes meet cobalt irises. The gaze from those eyes felt incredibly striking. The expression on the person’s face then softens, prompting Ashe to catch himself from staring. The person on the right then turns their attention towards their dining partner, speaking a couple of words that Ashe couldn't quite catch from where he is standing.

Said dining partner takes a large swig from a tall glass of orange juice, lets out a refreshed " _ah_ " after a few gulps, and wipes his mouth with his handkerchief. He then turns his head towards Ashe, his eyes widening in surprise before his mouth breaks into a giant happy grin. “Wowzaschnowza!” Ashe is suddenly bewildered by his outburst as the man gets up from his seat and approaches him. “It’s you! It’s really you!” He turns towards his friend, who greets Ashe with a gentle wave. “Linhardt! Am I dreaming? It’s really him!”

“Huh,” his dining partner speaks, their expression somehow nonchalant as if they weren't exchanging looks a few seconds ago. “He’s actually cuter in real life.”

“For real! He’s really cute!” the man agrees before he notices Ashe shying away. “Oh gods. I’m so sorry if I overwhelmed you, and you’re probably busy so I’ll make this quick. I was a big fan of yours when you used to appear on Dining with Dedue, and I’ve always wanted to try your food! The waiter even told me that you were the one who cooked our dinner! It was great! What was it called again? Boo-la? Boo-ba?”

“Bouillabaisse,” his friend interjects before a soft grin curls on their lips. “I am no food critic, but it was very delicious. It really warmed me right up.”

Feeling his face warm at the compliments on top of his heart swelling in joy, Ashe bashfully rubs the nape of his neck. “Haha. Well, thank you very much. I’m glad that you both enjoyed it.”

After finishing his conversation with the overly grateful customer and his friend, Ashe heads back to the kitchen with a satisfied look on his face. As soon as he steps through the doors, he feels a vibration coming from his phone. "Oh gods."

"Are the results in?" Chef Dedue asks while coming out of the storage room.

Pulling out his phone from his pocket, Ashe immediately unlocks the screen. With his email app already opened, one new message from Rowe University in his inbox appears. Everyone in the kitchen gathers around him in anticipation, except for Felix, who seems to be mulling over something else entirely. After a deep breath to calm his nerves, Ashe taps on the message.

_Dear Ashe Ubert,_

_Thank you for your time and consideration for applying to our Culinary Arts program as well as meeting with us to showcase your wonderful talents. After careful review of your qualifications, we regret to inform that the board has decided to not move forward with your admittance to our school._

_We appreciate your interest in Rowe University and wish you well in your future achievements._

_Regards,_

_Rowe University, School of Culinary Arts_

_Board of Directors_

“Oh no…” Mercedes speaks, pulling Ashe into a hug in hopes that it will comfort him.

“Ashe… I’m so sorry,” Ingrid apologizes. “Will you be able to keep working? I’ll let Manager Seteth know if you decide to leave early.”

With the rejection leaving him frozen for a moment, Ashe lets out a shaky breath before he forces a smile on his face. “I’ll be fine.”

“Hey, don’t push yourself,” Sylvain advises, patting him on the shoulder. “If you don’t feel like you can keep going, don’t try to put up a front. Go home and get some rest. Of course, if you need to let things out, we’re here for you.”

“I guess I’ll go home then,” Ashe decides, thanking everyone for the support before he heads to the break room to gather his things.

Following him into the room, Dedue looks at him with concern. “I have yet to take my break for the night. Would you like a ride home?”

Unable to face the one chef who has recommended and inspired him to follow his path, Ashe shakes his head in silence. He mumbles out a “good night”, not giving Dedue a chance to say anything else as he goes back out to leave the restaurant.

He takes a long walk back home with a heavy heart, drags his feet up the stairs to the entrance of his house, and drops his belongings on the floor once he was inside.

Striding into his bedroom, Ashe crashes face first onto his bed.

Only to let all of his pain and anguish go out as he cries himself to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caspar and Linhardt check out their potential house, only to be greeted by someone they didn't expect meeting again so soon. A few days later, they move in. Ashe gets to know one of his housemates a little better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello.
> 
> My mind is kinda blanking on what to write here, but I hope you'll enjoy this update regardless.
> 
> Thank you to Tart, Tochisuke, and vixen for beta-ing and laughing at my bad humor.
> 
> *Caspar voice*: YEAH!

_“Tailtean MMA. Final championship match. Super Lightweight division. First in the red corner, previous MMA record: ten wins, zero losses. Introducing the undefeated rookie of this season, the Hotheaded Lad, Caspar von Bergliez!”_

_The crowd goes wild, followed by trumpeting fanfare when the announced fighter enters the stage. He waves at the audience, points finger guns at his adoring fans, and raises his fist in the air. The crowd's cheers become louder when he takes his shirt off and tosses it away for a screaming, rabid fan to catch. He turns around when his coach Catherine gives him a strong pat on his shoulders. “This is it, kid. You got this.”_

_“YEAH!” Caspar yells to pump himself up. After a quick warm-up stretch, he turns back around to see who his opponent is._

_But his legs suddenly give out at the sight of a giant shadowy figure with a dark horned mask and red glowing eyes. The crowd starts booing and some fans start crying. Before Caspar can force himself to get back up, the referee signals the match to begin. He makes an attempt to protest, but his voice remains strangled in his throat. His whole body suddenly turns numb._

_The sounds of the audience somehow grow faint with an echo of someone calling his name, but he can't make it out who it is. Caspar is too occupied trying to figure out what was happening until he finds himself heavily pinned on the floor. Upon a closer look, the masked menace is a black wisp of flames, its breath comes out in smoke, and its claws digs into his shoulders. Caspar grits his teeth when pain begins to sear into his right shoulder. And then…_

_His whole body shatters like broken glass._

“Caspar!”

Caspar snorts himself awake; his eyes shoot up wide to see a worried Linhardt looking down on him. He blinks for a moment, suddenly noticing that he had been clutching onto his right shoulder in his sleep. He gives it a light squeeze, not feeling any of the pain he experienced in the nightmare he had. Letting out a sigh of relief, he checks his surroundings to find himself in a tilted passenger seat of someone's car. Linhardt is peering over him from the backseat. The driver next to him, a brooding-looking man with black hair and a fringe shielding his right eye, gives him a side glance before turning his attention back to the road. Caspar then remembers where they're headed, giving his concerned friend a smile of reassurance. “Haha. Uh. Good morning?”

“For fuck's sake, Caspar,” Linhardt swears as he sits back comfortably in his lone seat. “You were tossing around a lot. You even nearly punched Hubert, so he had to pull over before you caused an accident.” The concern on his face drops a bit, but his eyes stay worried. “Did you have that dream again?”

Readjusting his seat upright but nearly gagging at the seatbelt tightening against his neck, Caspar pulls to fix it from restraining him. “Yeah, but I'm okay.” He turns to the driver, who remains silent while he steers the wheel. “Sorry about that, Hubert.”

The driver huffs, slowing the car down into a complete stop before he unlocks the doors. He nods over to his left, implying that they have arrived at their destination. Both Linhardt and Caspar step out of the car and move onto the sidewalk. Caspar lets out a whistle when he sees a penthouse: a two-story building with a large patio and a flat roof. Being located right next to a long river with a small bridge leading to a shopping center, the house seems ideal for their preferences since it is also a few minutes away from school by train. 

Caspar then knocks on the car window, prompting the driver to roll it down halfway. “Thanks for the ride, Hubert, but uh… you don't have to keep doing this, you know.”

“That is not for you to decide,” Hubert replies in a low voice. “He still believes that he owes you a great debt, so he will continue to send me to assist you due to that stubbornness of his. Anyway, I will be nearby.”

Before Caspar could protest, Hubert rolls up the car window and quickly drives away.

“Come on, Caspar,” Linhardt ushers as he casually opens the gate to the penthouse. “Oh, it's unlocked.”

“What the hell, Linhardt,” Caspar replies with a bewildered laugh, following his friend to the front of the house. “Can we actually just waltz right in here?”

Holding out his phone, Linhardt checks an email for directions. “Well, the landlord said he won't be here until the next hour, but someone who already lives on the second floor should be home to let us in.”

“Oh boy, potential roomie!” Caspar cheers excitedly as both of them tread up a flight of stairs to the second floor. They stop in front of the door, Caspar taking the time to admire their surroundings while Linhardt rings the doorbell. After a minute of waiting, he rings it again, only to receive no response. Caspar elbows him aside and repeatedly presses the doorbell. “Hello?! Anyone home?”

“Yes, Caspar… Annoying our potential housemate is one way to make a good first impression,” Linhardt deadpans while checking his phone. “...If they're even home, that is, though the landlord said they should be.”

“Maybe they're asleep like you would be at this time,” Caspar reasons, stopping his abuse of the poor doorbell button. Before Caspar decides to cause more of a ruckus, the door finally opens. He and Linhardt turn their attention towards the person at the entrance. A young man with a head of awful grey bedhair, yellow-green bloodshot eyes, and a mix of drool and snot over his freckled face stands at the doorway with his clothes in disarray. Caspar gasps when he immediately recognizes the person as Chef Dedue's cute assistant.

While Caspar is too busy trying to come up with a response due to all of the questions popping up inside his head, Linhardt breaks the silence. “Gods, you look awful.”

“Linhardt! That's not nice!” Caspar scolds his friend over his rudeness. He then gives the other person an apologetic look. “Sorry about him. He can be really blunt sometimes.”

“It's fine,” the cute chef assistant reassures, though his voice comes out raspy. His expression then falters into confusion. “Um… How may I help you?”

“We're here to see the house,” Linhardt explains, holding up his phone to show the email he received from the landlord. “Mr. Hrym said he won't be around until later, but he said someone living here would let us in. That person wouldn't happen to be you, would it?”

Caspar can’t contain his amusement when the tenant blanks out; he watches the man go from befuddlement to realization until he panics. “Oh Goddess, I am so so sorry. I didn't get to clean last night and I came out here looking like a mess. You can come in and look around if you don't mind. I'll be washing up.”

Before Caspar and Linhardt try to respond, the tenant leaves the door open as he scurries off into the house. Caspar laughs while he and Linhardt excuse themselves inside. “Hahaha! He's so cute!”

“The saliva does make him look charming,” Linhardt comments, prompting a splutter from his friend. Taking off his shoes, he closes the door behind them. “Now, let's explore. Shall we?”

Starting from the entrance, the interior of the house feels warm and cozy, compared to its modern exterior. On the right is the kitchen, decked with white marble countertops and stainless steel appliances, plus a wooden countertop table with a set of colorful stools where people can dine at. On the left is the living area. A red armchair sits between the door and a tall black glass cabinet. Next to the cabinet is a large flatscreen TV placed on top of a wooden stand, followed by two sets of bookcases that are filled with novels and video games.

While he tries not to analyze someone based on their interests and hobbies, Linhardt finds himself intrigued when he notices a large collection of fantasy books on one of the shelves. He turns around, wondering where Ashe Ubert had run off to, but he also realizes Caspar is nowhere to be seen. “Caspar?” he calls out, making his way towards one of the bedrooms nearest to the kitchen, only to see it being a small room with just a single bed. He heads down the hallway, then takes a peek inside what seems to be the laundry room before moving on to the next. He passes the other bedroom out of respect for Ashe's privacy as well as the closed bathroom, assuming that Ashe himself is in there gargling water.

Once he steps into the next room, Linhardt is taken aback by how spacious the master bedroom is, containing just a queen bed and a door to a walk-in closet in between two built-in shelves. A long window stretches from one side of the wall to the other, revealing a great view of the river. Linhardt suddenly notices some movement from burgundy curtains, where Caspar's feet are sticking out from. Rolling his eyes at his friend's poor attempt to surprise him, Linhardt quietly sneaks towards the curtains. He pokes through the cloth, eliciting a boisterous laugh when Caspar steps out of his hiding place. “Hahaha! You found me!”

“That I did,” Linhardt responds while watching his friend run into what seems to be the master bathroom. He follows after him, sticking his head in to find it luxurious with two long connected porcelain sinks, a glass shower cube with sea green floor tiles, a toilet, and a hot tub occupied by Caspar. He chuckles when Caspar beatboxes to imitate a rapper in one of those raunchy music videos, taking out his phone and snapping a picture of him.

“You two seem to be having fun,” Ashe's voice is heard when he appears at the door with two mugs of tea.

Linhardt thanks him when he accepts the drink, and notices that Ashe Ubert has groomed himself compared to his earlier appearance. He instantly feels relaxed from the herbal aroma, about to take a sip until he hears loud slurping. He grimaces before he turns to Caspar, who is already out of the hot tub and somehow chugging his tea without scorching his throat. “I know it may be odd for us to be drinking tea in the bathroom, but must you forget your manners?”

Letting out a belch, Caspar excuses himself as they all walk back to the living room. “Haha, sorry! It's just if it's any food and drink from this cutie, I gotta finish it because it's good!”

“C-Cutie?!” Ashe stammers before taking the mug from Caspar back. “Oh no. You're giving me too much praise.” Linhardt raises an eyebrow when the young tenant mutters something inaudible, but he decides not to pry when the man forces a smile. “I still got a lot of ways to go.”

“I'm sure you'll be more brilliant with cooking in no time!” Caspar encourages. “Right, Linhardt?”

Linhardt hums in response before he makes an attempt at changing the topic. “How long have you been living here? If you've been living alone all this time, why haven't you taken the big room?”

“Oh, I've been living here for over a year now,” Ashe answers. “I don't have a lot of stuff that would make the room less empty, plus I don't really like large beds. I tend to roll off of them in my sleep.”

“Hahaha, that's cute!” Caspar comments, earning a strangled noise from the other man. “You're such a cutie!”

“He has a name, you know,” Linhardt points out, finding Ashe being flustered a little endearing. “Which reminds me, we forgot to introduce ourselves. Linhardt. Physical therapy intern at St. Seiros under Arianrhod University.”

“And I'm Caspar! I'm majoring in athletic training. Linhardt and I go to the same school.”

“Oh, those paths actually sound very interesting! Well, I'm Ashe, though you probably already knew that,” Ashe replies, his cheeks turning red when he receives an overjoyed ‘cute name’ from Caspar. “I'm currently studying nutrition at Fhirdiad Community College.” He chuckles when Linhardt gives him an intrigued look while Caspar gasps out a "wow". “Are you two finished looking around?”

“Oh yeah!” Caspar answers as his smile radiates in excitement. “This actually seems like a great place!”

“Being honest, this place is too perfect for my tastes,” Linhardt comments, suddenly wary about the house. While he is very pleased after seeing the penthouse, he can’t help but feel dubious since he looked the place up. “If we decide to stay here, commuting to the branch school and the hospital would be less exhausting. We currently have to keep crossing the border since we're from Adrestia.” He softly grins at Ashe's bewilderment, something about his expression being too adorable. “While Caspar and I can afford to live here with additional help from our sponsors, there is something about this place being too convenient for us. I just looked up this place because you can fish from the river here.”

“Really, Linhardt?” Caspar inquires, completely dumbfounded. “Weren’t you going on about how we should get a place that would make our lives less of a hassle?”

“I can actually understand that feeling to be honest,” Ashe sympathizes. “The actual rent of this floor is higher than what I currently pay. I was also suspicious when I saw how low the price was when it was first listed, but Mr. Hrym has been understanding and supportive, especially since he only rents this floor out to students.”

“Why are you talking about me?” an awfully low voice questions, eliciting a scream from Caspar while Ashe lets out a squeak.

Linhardt turns his attention towards the man at the door, only to widen his eyes when something familiar about the man strikes him. He looks at Caspar, who went from shocked to bursting into laughter as Ashe introduces the man as the landlord, Mr. Hrym. Linhardt continues watching his friend carefully to see if he recognizes Mr. Hrym, but Caspar seems unfazed by the landlord.

“Hevring…” Mr. Hrym utters when he glances at Linhardt before he turns towards Caspar. “Burgerman.”

“It’s Bergliez!” Caspar corrects, huffing out his chest while letting out a grumble. “Why are you so fricking tall?”

“Never mind my height,” Mr. Hrym dismisses. “Out with it. Are you interested in living here or not?”

“I wanna!” Caspar responds happily before looking at Linhardt. “What about you, Linhardt?”

As long as you’re okay with this, I suppose, Linhardt muses to himself before he answers. “I can’t argue with how this place aligns with our preferences, so I’ll oblige.” He turns to the landlord, who gives him an expectant look. “We’ll be happy to discuss this matter along with the paperwork.”

“Very well,” Mr. Hrym accepts, a slight glint of happiness appearing on his face that Linhardt catches for a second before it reverts back to a dull expression. “Follow me to the rooftop. We will go over things up there.”

“OH YEAH!” Caspar shouts with enthusiasm as he pumps his fists up. “We’re going to be roomies with cute Ashe!”

Ashe lets out an embarrassed chuckle before he warmly smiles. “I look forward to it.”

When the landlord turns around and opens the door, Linhardt nearly chokes when his eyes land on his lower back side.

“What’s wrong, Linhardt? Let’s go!” Caspar asks, noticing his friend standing frigid.

Waiting for Mr. Hrym to be out of earshot, Linhardt shakily exhales before whispering. “Our landlord has one thick ass.”

Ashe splutters at the awfully direct comment while Caspar gives Linhardt a disapproving stare before dragging him out to follow Mr. Hrym.

Three days later after sorting things out with foreign customs and other trivial business, both Caspar and Linhardt move in to the penthouse. Along with the movers, Ashe is helping them get settled in by carrying boxes to their rooms. It was agreed between his two new housemates that Linhardt gets the master bedroom while Caspar gets the other unoccupied room. Ashe also willingly complied to share the bathroom with Caspar, though Linhardt insisted that they're welcome to use the hot tub in the master bathroom. Seeing that the house is going to become livelier with his two new housemates, Ashe can't help but feel a little excited.

“Linhardt!” Caspar's voice shrills from the master bedroom. Curious as to what is happening, Ashe walks over to check and finds Linhardt already sleeping in his bed. Caspar drops a box on the floor before jumping on the bed to wake his friend up. “You're not done unpacking! Get up! You can sleep later!”

“No, I'm tired,” Linhardt whines, turning his body away from his overly loud and energetic friend. “I'll deal with my stuff later… I have to go to my internship today so I need sleep…”

“Ugh, fine. Just don't get mad if we put something in the wrong place,” Caspar grumbles, climbing off the bed before looking up to see Ashe standing at the door. His face breaks into a silly grin when he heads out the room. “What's up, Ashe?”

“Just checking to make sure everything is alright,” Ashe replies, following Caspar, who returns to sort the rest of his and Linhardt's belongings.

“Eh, don't mind Linhardt. He's always like that,” Caspar informs before thanking and waving goodbye to the movers at the door when they finished moving all the boxes and furniture in. Checking a couple boxes with his name scribbled on them, he effortlessly lifts them up and heads to his room. “Time to get these babies open!”

Whistling at the marvel of Caspar's strength, Ashe assists him with the other boxes, but notices the top one was already opened. He was about to close it out of respect for Caspar's privacy, but he becomes curious when he sees a pile of MMA tournament trophies. Thinking he should get to know his housemate better, Ashe decides to ask. “Caspar, do you do mixed martial arts?”

“Oh crud. I didn't tape that box up,” Caspar responds with a laugh as he approaches Ashe. “Yeah! Well, I used to. I did some tae kwon do in high school so after graduation, I was invited to train under a former fighter and I ended up being one of the best rookies ever! I was known as the ‘Hotheaded Lad’!”

“That's amazing,” Ashe compliments, laughing when Caspar starts to flex his muscles. It takes him a few seconds to realize he has been staring at them for a long moment, his cheeks warming up as he stops himself from admiring those… wonderfully massive guns. He then recalls his housemate saying that he used to participate in MMA tournaments, which piques his curiosity further. “You said you used to do some fighting. Did you quit afterwards?”

“Well, I was forced to quit,” Caspar explains, taking a silver dented trophy out of the box. “I was facing a tough guy who some rich jerk betted on. They bribed the referee to allow some foul play. Got my right shoulder fucked up from it. It couldn't heal completely either, so the doctor told me, ‘No more fighting’. Haha.”

“Oh no. I'm so sorry,” Ashe apologizes, frowning when Caspar puts the trophy back and closes the box. Something about Caspar's experience makes his heart sink. Despite only knowing him for a couple of days, Ashe finds Caspar pleasant to be around. His constant optimism is contagious, perhaps, a lot more admirable than he actually thinks. Realizing that he might have overstepped some boundaries, Ashe adds to his apology. “I didn't intend to bring up a bad experience.”

“Huh?” Caspar is confused for a moment until his lips falter into a sad grin. “Oh nah. It's fine, Ashe. Things were taken care of in the end, so it's all good. Everything's okay!” Ashe is about to interject, but he gets taken aback when Caspar pulls him into a hug. “While I can't fight anymore, I decided to be a trainer so no athlete has to go through the pain I had. Although, being honest with you, I do miss fighting, but…” He lowers his voice into a whisper. “Linhardt doesn't like it when I fight.”

“Why's that?” Ashe inquires, feeling his face heat up from the overwhelming warmth of Caspar's embrace, but he slowly relaxes in it. He won't deny that he finds it comforting though, possibly soothing even. It's as if his body had been deprived of such warmth, something he needed to fill a certain void, which he has been ignoring for a couple of days now. 

Ashe hesitates to return the hug, but ends up being a tad too late when Caspar pulls away, pats him on the shoulders, and goes back to moving his belongings. “Well, he doesn't like violence and he gets queasy whenever he sees blood, so I understand where he's coming from.” His eyes suddenly turn sad while he looks like he's struggling to keep his smile. “If I didn't invite him to see that match, maybe he wouldn't have worried so much. I was going to tell him something if I won, but...” He takes a deep breath, exhaling through his mouth before he returns back to his happy self. “Well, that's enough of regretting. Let's get back to making my room look cool!”

Ashe isn't sure if he should give Caspar some kind of reassurance, but he truthfully feels that his admiration for Caspar's strength, in both body and mind, has grown stronger. Seeing that Caspar has dropped the topic, he attempts to ask something else. “So… how long have you and Linhardt been together?”

“Oh my fucking meatballs. WHAT,” Caspar shouts before exploding into a fit of laughter. “Oh my gods. This happens every time. Hahaha!”

“Oh, I'm so sorry,” Ashe apologizes again as he bites his tongue. Thinking back to when Mr. Hrym told him that his two new housemates were together, he shouldn't have assumed they were together as a couple, but as friends. He then notices Linhardt coming out of his room, eyes droopy and hair messy while they draw out a long yawn. “Oh. Good morning, Linhardt.”

“Morning, sunshine,” Linhardt greets back, the nickname making Ashe blush. Linhardt then smacks his lips before making a grumpy face. “Caspar, can you shut up?”

“No!” Caspar retorts, still laughing. “Ashe thought we were dating.”

“Oh my,” Linhardt responds, suddenly amused. “Well, we probably are, considering the fact that I can never take my eyes off of you.”

“You keep them off when you’re asleep though,” Caspar points out, unaware of his friend’s attempt at flirting with him.

Linhardt sighs, muttering a "never mind" before he focuses on Ashe. “We’ve known each other since we were kids and have been stuck together since then. The assumption of us dating is common, so no need to feel bad.” His lips suddenly pull into a smirk. “How about you, Ashe? Is or was there anything between you and Chef Dedue?”

Ashe laughs nervously at the question, his mind scrambling at a particular memory as he responds. “I admit we tried to have something between us, but we both felt that it wasn’t for either of us. So, we agreed to just remain as friends.”

“Oh darn,” Linhardt quips. “And here I was thinking that you were a size queen.”

Ashe nearly chokes while Caspar bursts into another fit of laughter. He and Linhardt shortly join in afterwards, the three of them immersing themselves into the joy of each other’s company.

Ashe feels assured that living with his two new housemates won’t be so bad at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading.
> 
> I hope you weren't eating anything while reading some of Linhardt's dialogue.
> 
> I am myrmcheck on twitter, but all I do is spout out some random headcanons related to this modern AU while also talking about my bowel problems.
> 
> Have a nice rest of your day and evening.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Linhardt calls Ashe and Caspar for a discussion over some house rules. A new doctor joins the physical therapy department at St. Seiros. Ashe and Caspar go to volunteer at a cat cafe, but witness something out of the ordinary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. How are you today?
> 
> A couple of warnings and heads-uppies for this update.
> 
> \- Caspar initially has gross roommate habits, and I would like to say I'm sorry once you read it  
> \- Linhardt will have a small crush on someone who isn't Ashe/Caspar, but it will be one-sided and won't last very long for reasons I can't divulge right now lmao. I'm putting this as a warning in case anyone doesn't dig this sort of thing.  
> \- cw: emotional abuse in the middle of the chapter  
> \- Both Byleths will be in this story (twins AU!!!). (f)Byleth will be referred as their Japanese name Bylese to differentiate between the two. Their pronouns are both (they/them).  
> \- Last part of the chapter will have something that's really unrealistic, but you'll know once you get to that part hhhhhhh
> 
> Thank you, Tart, Tochisuke, and (soon) vixen for reading over my bananas

A few days have passed, and the second floor of the penthouse has been livelier than ever. Despite being overly rowdy at times, Caspar has brought smiles and laughter with his sociable presence at home. Linhardt, who is often sleeping quietly in their room during the day or working at their internship in the early afternoon, tends to make nights at home a little exciting with their dry humor and not-so-subtle innuendos that leave Ashe in a blushing mess while Caspar is either too confused to question his friend's salacious behavior or caught in a laughing fit. Both Caspar and Linhardt have been decent housemates, agreeing to handle their own individual chores. They also take turns to prepare meals, excluding Caspar, who somehow always manages to set something on fire the moment he is near the stove. Thankfully there was no damage during many of Caspar's cooking mishaps. Although Ashe has been patient and willing to help him out in the kitchen, Linhardt can't help but feel that Ashe has been taking care of most of the housework, so they decide to call both Ashe and Caspar for a meeting.

“I believe it's time we should make some house rules,” Linhardt starts speaking once everyone has gathered in the kitchen. Propped up onto the fridge is a magnet whiteboard, which they begin to scribble on in non-scented blue ink. “With the holidays coming soon, there will be a point where we get too comfortable in this house and start leaving messes, but let's ignore the current state of my room for this discussion.” Caspar lets out a scoff while Ashe nervously chuckles. Linhardt then adds, “I'm mainly holding this meeting out of concern for Ashe.”

“For me?” Ashe inquires, feeling surprised. He isn't exactly sure what brought this up, especially when he rarely sees Linhardt at home during most of the day. The two of them haven't had much opportunity to get to know each other better, so the expression of concern leaves him bewildered. “Why?”

“While I'm certain you're always treating us well out of the goodness of your heart, there will be a moment when your tolerance has its limits,” Linhardt explains, their words causing Ashe to drop his mouth open. “Although we have been living together for about a week now, I'm sure there have been moments when Caspar and I have done something to annoy you.”

“Oh no, not at all!” Ashe immediately denies, rubbing the back of his nape while his mind scrambles for words to say. “I… I just think you two have been fine. Although I have been living alone for a long time, your presence hasn't been a bother at all. I enjoy it actually.”

“Aww,” Caspar responds, giving Ashe a side hug. “Love ya too, pal!” He brings Ashe in closer to his chest, causing him to be awfully flustered.

“Caspar, you're squishing him,” Linhardt comments, though the small grin on their face seems to imply they're enjoying Ashe's bashfulness. They then clear their throat before moving on. “Well, leaving Ashe’s kindness aside, I still think we need to set some rules. I doubt either of you would care to enter my room if not to use the master bathroom, but if you do, just leave my mess where it is.”

“But what if we step on something?” Caspar asks, releasing Ashe from his hold before ruffling his hair, to which Ashe struggles to compose himself from the gesture. Caspar then adds, “You better not have any fucking Lego pieces scattered around because those hurt like a bitch!”

“I have yet to unpack my Lego architecture collection, but I'll keep that in mind,” Linhardt notes as they write on the board. “Ashe, would you like to add something?”

“I'm fine as long as you clean up after yourselves,” Ashe replies, but he suddenly recalls something, slightly cringing at the memory of an unsightly mess in the small bathroom earlier in the morning. He turns to Caspar, who happily smiles at him. “Actually, I do have a complaint.”

“Oh, this would be good,” Linhardt observes. “Give it to him. Don't leave anything out.”

“Yeah! Lay it on me!” Caspar encourages, pounding his chest. “If anything bothers you, feel free to let us know!”

Ashe takes a deep breath before his expression turns into anger. “If you're going to trim your pubic hair, can you toss it into the trash instead of down the tub drain? I had to unclog it, and there was a huge disgusting ball of your pubes. It was a very displeasing experience, so I would really appreciate it. I don't want to fucking deal with that again.” Linhardt lets out a high-pitched laugh while Caspar gawks at him. Ashe then continues. “Also, there's been shit stains outside of the toilet bowl! How on Fódlan's fucking ballsack did you manage to do that?!” Linhardt raises an eyebrow towards Caspar, who is shrinking away from behind the countertop table when Ashe's voice grows angrier. “I get it if you prefer to crouch, but I can't tell whether you're trying to target practice from your anus or you just can't bother to put your ass down. Have some decency. Remember that we're sharing the bathroom.” Ashe then turns to Linhardt, who stops laughing when he glares at them. “And Linhardt, I don't know what you do late in the night when everyone else is sleeping, but stop littering the living room like it's your fucking room. Also, if you're going to put something in the fridge, at least eat it before it expires. I had to sanitize the whole thing to remove the smell of rotten eggs. It smelled worse than Caspar's shit.” Ashe then stops, noticing his two housemates staring at him in shock the whole time before he realizes what he had spoken. “Oh gods. I'm so sorry. I don't know what's gotten into me.”

“Never… make… Ashe… mad. Always… clean… up,” Linhardt notes while they write on the board, emphasizing the rule with a thick underline.

“Is it okay to hug you again?” Caspar asks, laughing when Ashe buries his face in his hands out of embarrassment due to his outburst. He allows himself to be pulled into another hug, his fingers clutching onto his face when he feels his head being placed onto Caspar's sturdy shoulder. A certain emotion that he felt from this particular warmth of Caspar's embrace rises in his chest again. Part of him wants to reject it because he feels apologetic, but another part of him wants to indulge into this feeling. Ashe's heart is about to burst when his ears twitch at the closeness of Caspar's voice. “Really sorry though, Ashe. I promise to clean after myself whenever I'm in the bathroom, as well as anywhere else we share. Linhardt promises to clean too!”

“I will comply. The last thing I want is Ashe looking at me with murderous intent again,” Linhardt says in a teasing manner, which causes Ashe to whine. They turn to Caspar. “Do you have anything you want to add?”

“Uh…” Caspar trails off while he gently weaves his fingers through Ashe's hair. “I don't know. I'm not really bothered by a lot of things. If anything, most of the rules are to prevent me from causing trouble, just like how Mr. Hrym told me to not stomp on the floor a lot.”

“Oh, I should write his rules down too,” Linhardt notes, doodling a no-smoking sign. After finishing the rest of the rules, they turn back to Ashe, who is still being held in Caspar's arms. “Oh my, you two have grown really affectionate towards one another, haven't you?”

Ashe instantly jolts up, realizing that he was getting too comfortable being held in Caspar's arms. Unsure of what to do, he mutters an apology before leaving his warmth, his heart sinking with reluctance. For a moment, he notices Caspar frowning, but his expression shortly changes back to his usual optimism. Caspar laughs when he responds. “So what? Ashe and I are friends! Friends hug!”

Ashe merely chuckles, tossing aside his previous thought. Somehow, he feels thankful to have met Caspar, as well as Linhardt.

The three of them continue to discuss their house rules until Linhardt has to leave to go to their internship while Caspar runs to his room to get ready for a job interview. Ashe has no particular schedule for the day, so he decides to plan for tonight's dinner. He is about to check the pantry until the doorbell rings. He immediately checks the camera, widening his eyes when he sees a familiar grumpy face. He opens the door and greets the visitor. “Felix! Good afternoon!”

“Hi,” Felix simply greets back, excusing himself into the house. “Seteth said you took a week off.”

“I did,” Ashe confirms, shutting the door. He nearly stumbles when Felix holds a paper bag with the Fish Money logo on it to his face, chuckling before he accepts the gift. “Ah, treats. I assume they're from Mercedes.”

Felix hums in response, taking a seat on the couch. He leans over his knees and folds his hands. He takes a look around before he turns his head towards Ashe. “You have housemates now?”

“Oh, yes,” Ashe replies, heading into the kitchen to place the bag of treats on the counter. “Would you like anything to drink?”

“I'm fine,” Felix rejects the offer. “I won't be staying here long. Just came to check on you.” He pauses before looking away. “Only because Annette and Ingrid bothered me to.”

Ashe merely laughs, knowing that Felix has his own way to show concern, which he appreciates. Opening the bag of treats, he widens his eyes when he sees a long box of macarons. He pulls it out and pops the box open, helping himself to a purple blueberry-flavored one. He sees Felix turn around, silently offers one, but laughs when Felix shakes his head and sticks his tongue out in disgust. 

The two of them are both quiet for a moment until Felix begins to ask. “Are you still… sad?”

Ashe suddenly feels the bit of macaron he just swallowed get lodged in his throat. While he appreciates his old friend for coming to check up on him, he feels uncertain over talking about the rejection from Rowe University. He knows he has been avoiding it for over a week now, and he has yet to talk to Dedue about what his next plan should be, but he feels horribly lost. He was intent on focusing on this particular path without a backup plan, only to fail in the end. His eyes begin to get misty, causing him to wipe them away with the back of his arm. He opens his mouth to answer Felix.

But he nearly chokes when Caspar suddenly comes running from the hallway in nothing but a grey dress shirt and a black tie around his head.

“Hey, Ashe!” Caspar calls him, struggling to get his tie down to his neck. “Would you happen to have any pants I can borrow? Mine are still in the washer.”

 _Thank the goddess that his shirt is covering his crotch_ , Ashe thinks while steering his eyes away from Caspar's lower body. “They're in my closet on the right.”

“Okay, thanks!” Caspar replies as he runs back, but he returns when he notices Felix. “Also, hi! I'm Caspar! Love your sushi, man!”

Felix gives him a curt nod, watching Ashe's housemate rush back into the hallway. 

“I'm so sorry you had to see that,” Ashe apologizes. “He's… well, I admit he can be rowdy sometimes, but he's a really nice guy.”

“He looks familiar,” Felix comments before getting up from the couch. Seeing his friend about to leave, Ashe goes over to walk him out. He is about to open the door, but stops when Felix places his hand on his shoulder. He looks up to see his old friend giving him a rare soft grin. “You'll figure things out. Talk to Dedue. He's been worried.”

Ashe lets out a sigh before he nods. “Thanks… and I will.”

He just hopes there is something he can do about his upcoming future.

In the late afternoon, one of the lecture halls at St. Seiros Hospital is crowded full of people. It was announced that a well-known doctor will be joining the physical therapy department, bringing on the lively chatter and bustle in the audience. Letting out a tired yawn, Linhardt slumps in their seat with their arms crossed against their chest. They couldn't care any less about the new doctor or how famous they are. They don't even know their name. They didn't even bother picking up a lecture pamphlet, which one of their superiors sitting next to them is skimming through. Deciding to indulge into their boredom, they straighten themself up in their seat before resting their arms on the table. “Anything interesting, Marianne?”

“Oh, um,” a young woman with long sky-blue hair tied into a braided bun stutters before clearing her throat. “Dr. Eisner published an interesting study on virtual reality treadmill training as a way to improve walking speed and distance for patients who suffered from strokes and brain injuries.”

 _Now where have I heard that name before?_ Linhardt questions before turning back to the topic. “Virtual reality, huh? Technology is really coming a long way, though I’m kind of skeptical about the chief wanting to implement this in a traditional hospital setting.”

“Word from some staff circles is that Dr. Eisner was invited by the CEO to work here,” a soft, yet cheery voice interjects, prompting both Linhardt and Marianne to turn their heads to see a redhaired girl taking a seat near them.

“You’re late, Annette,” Linhardt mentions, rearranging themself so they can rest their head in their arms.

“It hasn’t started, so I’m on-time!” Annette clarifies. All of the sudden, everyone in the crowd begins to applause. “Ooh, now it’s starting!”

Linhardt initially planned to take a nap through the new doctor’s lecture, but they suddenly sit up when they see someone familiar taking the stage. Standing behind the podium, they introduce themselves as Dr. Byleth Eisner. Something about their husky voice brings back memories of when Caspar got severely injured from his last fighting match.

_During that time, Linhardt was struggling with his emotions. The moment he saw his best friend being crushed by someone twice his size, he stood in the audience frozen. The murmurs from people around him grew silent. The announcer’s yells over calling off the match due to foul play were unheard. Linhardt couldn’t move. They couldn’t breathe. They couldn’t even speak. All they could hear was the painful scream coming from Caspar, a blood-curdling scream that landed a striking impact to their chest. Was it sadness? Was it anger? Was it anxiety? Linhardt couldn’t describe it._

_They just knew that their heart was broken from seeing their best friend in excruciating pain._

_“Excuse me,” a voice tore them away from their thoughts, causing them to look up to see a young person with a slightly intense gaze. “Are you Caspar von Bergliez’ guardian?”_

_Linhardt gaped in confusion over being referred to as their best friend’s guardian, but Caspar’s negligent father couldn’t be bothered to visit his son in Faerghus. They were currently the only support Caspar has, so they had to do all they could to help Caspar during his time of need. They stiffly nodded in response._

_“Hello, I am Dr. Eisner. I’ll be taking care of Caspar during his rehabilitation,” the person introduced themselves, stretching out their hand._

_Staring at the doctor’s hand, Linhardt gave it a swift high-five before muttering out their name. “Linhardt.”_

_The doctor blinked for a couple of moments before they let out a bewildered laugh. “Haha, you’re funny.” All of the sudden, they crouch down to Linhardt’s eye level, startling him as they leaned in close. “The doctor who took care of his surgery is speaking with him at the moment. So… Before I take you to see Caspar, are you okay?”_

_“Am I… okay?” Linhardt repeated, not understanding the question or the reason they were being asked. “Why?”_

_“No intention of crossing any personal boundaries, but,” Dr. Eisner uttered before their voice dropped into a whisper. “You look constipated.”_

_“I… beg your pardon?”_

_“Haha, sorry,” Dr. Eisner apologized before stepping back. Linhardt couldn’t help but find this doctor rather eccentric, yet he found their personality somehow charming. The doctor then gave him a gentle smile. “You must have felt hurt after watching what happened. I know it’s important to be strong after seeing someone you care about get hurt, but it’s okay if you need to let anything out.”_

_Feeling hurt? Letting things out? Linhardt thought to themself, their chest suddenly feeling tight. “What do you mean?” they asked._

_“I’m saying that it’s okay to cry, Linhardt.”_

_It’s okay… to cry? Linhardt silently asked. Their father always scolded them for crying while their mother brushed off the feelings they felt as meaningless. They were taught that their feelings made them weak. They were also taught that their feelings made them selfish, and indulging into that selfishness was wrong. Not to upset their parents any longer, they made a habit to shut themself in their room while holding back their tears. When they were about 6-years old, his tears were still spilling out as they struggled to hold them in. A few weeks later, they never shed a single drop anymore. The way they were raised left him feeling awfully cold, even lonesome. It was as if they kept inside some kind of darkness, a darkness that was devoid of emotion. They were initially wary about bottling up their feelings, but all those feelings eventually faded away, making them feel listless inside._

_A small part of them rejected this lack of emotion._

_Linhardt trudged through their childhood without feeling anything until one day they met a bright, obnoxiously loud young boy named Caspar. Caspar was often filled with joy, his smile and laughter radiating with the power of a thousand suns. There was something about his optimism that felt overpowering, a kind of optimism that Linhardt never knew they desired._

_It felt as if Caspar was their light, the light that guided them out from this dark void._

_The light that helped them feel again._

_The light that they never wanted to ever lose._

_Ah, yes… Caspar, Linhardt mused as realization dawned on them. They quickly got up from the waiting room bench and rushed to his designated room._

_“Oh hey, Linhardt!” Caspar greeted them when they opened the door. “Doctor surgeon man said that my shoulder is okay, but I can't- Hey! Whoa!”_

_Clutching onto their best friend for dear life, Linhardt held Caspar close. As if all their pent-up emotions had broken out from their chest, they let out a gasp while they cried._

_They had not cried their heart out in a very long time._

“Linhardt?” Annette's voice draws them out from their flashbacks, along with making them realize they all moved from the lecture hall to the office. Still basking in their befuddled daze, they blink for a moment until they notice Dr. Eisner, who is standing in front of them with their hand stretched out.

Clearing their throat, Linhardt mutters an apology due to the department head glaring at them. They then bow their head while taking Dr. Eisner's hand.

Only to have their arm suddenly tossed up, followed by a strong smack against their palm.

“High-five!” Dr. Eisner cheers, surprising everyone in the office with their sudden change of behavior. They then clasp their hands together. “Well, it was nice meeting everyone. Looking forward to working with you all!”

Everyone in the room gives them a welcoming round of applause before returning to their tasks and appointments for the day. Linhardt, still standing awkwardly while trying to register why their hand stings, looks towards Dr. Eisner. The doctor then notices them, meets their eyes, and smiles at them.

Something about the doctor's smile stirs an indescribable feeling in Linhardt's chest, but they immediately ignore it when Marianne calls them.

They do make a mental note to thank the doctor for a certain wake-up call later.

A few weeks have gone, and the holidays have arrived. The three housemates spent these days with their families and friends, hardly ever seeing each other at home. Soon enough, the new year came, and winter break is over. All three people are carrying on with their studies and jobs. While Ashe and Linhardt seem to be dealing with their personal lives okay, Caspar, on the other hand, feels disgruntled with himself.

“Argh!” Caspar screams out of frustration while furiously scratching his head. He spent the whole morning going through newspaper and magazine job ads, still unsuccessful with his job search since the past month. He takes a deep breath before checking his email on his laptop, only to be hit with another rejection for the umpteenth time. He falls back onto the couch and kicks his feet in the air. “Ah! I can't take this anymore! I need money and something to do! I've been so fucking bored!”

“Why not ask _him_ ,” Linhardt suggests while lying on the floor, rolling over to dodge a couch pillow being thrown in their direction.

“I! do not! want to! owe _him_ anything!” Caspar emphasizes, standing up from the couch. He paces around the room, trying to come up with any ideas to land a job. He then turns to Ashe, who is busy cooking lunch in the kitchen. “Hey Ashe!”

“Yes?”

“Is Fish Money hiring?” Caspar asks.

“Not that I know of…”

“Oh my flaming bojangles!” Caspar roars before he sighs in defeat. “Gods, this is hard.”

“What happened to the job at the sporting goods store?” Linhardt inquires.

“I got fired on the first day!” Caspar happily answers as if it is something to be proud of. He then frowns. “Challenged the manager to a game of b-ball. I managed to win, but he took it way too personally.”

“Petty,” Linhardt simply describes before they ask another question. “What about the job at the daycare?”

“Got fired for swearing in front of a kid.”

“That mascot job?”

“Fired for twerking.”

“…The aquarium?”

“It was actually going good,” Caspar says before he grumbles. “But I ended up quitting because one of the squids got kinda… handsy? Tentacle-ly? Touchy?”

“Didn’t know you weren’t into that.”

“Oh, don’t make it sound weird, Linhardt!” Caspar whines, falling face forward back onto the couch.

“Why not try volunteering, Caspar?” Ashe suggests while placing plates of food on the countertop. “After we finish eating, I’ll be heading to the local cat café to help out there. While you won’t get money out of it, it’s a good place to start for gaining some experience to put on your resume. You can come with me if you’d like.”

Suddenly perking up at the suggestion, Caspar rolls off the couch. Without another thought, he rushes over towards Ashe and looks at him with eyes sparkling with excitement. “I wanna go! I wanna go! I love cats! What do I get to do there?”

“Well, you get to help by taking care of some cats, of course,” Ashe replies, his response making Caspar filled with more anticipation. “You also help out with cleaning and making sure the whole café is safe for both cats and visitors. It should be simple enough.”

“Sign me the fuck up!” Caspar happily accepts. He wraps his arms around Ashe, eliciting a yelp when he lifts his friend up. “You’re the best, Ashe! I’m so excited that I can kiss you!” With his heart feeling full, Caspar gently puts Ashe back down before he grasps his shoulders. “Can I kiss you?”

Ashe splutters in response, turning his face away. Every time Ashe gets shy in front of him, Caspar can’t help but finds it adorable, yet he has to remind himself he needs to practice some restraint. Giving Ashe a pat on his shoulders, he mutters an apology before looking over to see that Linhardt has moved onto the couch to watch his little display of affection. He gives them a sheepish grin as he asks. “Wanna come with, Linnie?”

Linhardt just stares blankly at him before they let out an elongated yawn. They wave the invitation off as they lie onto the couch. “Internship in an hour. Have fun without me.”

“Aw, maybe next time,” Caspar speaks as he and Ashe begin to eat lunch together.

Once they are finished eating and cleaning up, both Ashe and Caspar get changed to go to the café. Linhardt lazily sends them off while Ashe reminds them to eat their lunch before they leave for his internship. Caspar laughs hard to the point of choking when his best friend teases Ashe with a " _Yes, Daddy_ ", running after a flustered Ashe as they both head to the shopping center.

Upon arriving at the cat café, Caspar is greeted by a warm, cozy atmosphere, the soft sounds of mewls and purrs immediately comforting his ears when he and Ashe step towards the service desk. While Ashe talks to the receptionist, Caspar looks around, admiring the wooden pastel décor and a line of small cat photos on the wall. He is about to explore the café further until he feels something tickle his leg. He looks down, his mouth dropping open when a small grey tabby familiarizes itself around him. He slowly crouches down once it stops in front of him, looking at it in awe before he softly greets it. “Hello.”

The cat meows at him in response, its friendly greeting causing Caspar’s eyes to fill with tears.

“Ah… Ashe!” Caspar cries as he carefully lifts the tabby into his arms. “I don’t know if I can survive here! I already got attacked by this little guy’s cuteness!”

“Well, there’s plenty more of them around that will be happy to see you,” Ashe says with a chuckle. “Let’s go to the café area now. I want to introduce you to the café owner.”

Caspar follows Ashe deeper into the café, his face glowing with wonder when he sees other people dining at tables with cats as their companions. As soon as they go down the hallway leading to some offices, they stop in front of an open door, where a young, familiar person sits at their desk. While Ashe walks in to greet them, Caspar repeatedly blinks his eyes to make sure he isn’t seeing things. The person at the desk looks a lot like his former physical therapist, only with longer hair and some feminine-like features. Once Ashe and the person finish talking, Caspar blurts out without a second thought. “Dr. Eisner? You got pretty!”

“Huh?” the person looks at him confused for a moment before they start laughing. “Oh. You must’ve met my sibling. Sorry, I’m their twin Bylese.”

“Oh crud, I apologize,” Caspar speaks while bowing his head. He then notices the tabby in his arms has fallen asleep, which causes him to tear up again. “Please help me.”

Both Ashe and Bylese laugh until Bylese lets out a shocked gasp. They get up from their seat, excuse themselves between Ashe and Caspar, and call out in a loud yell. “Hey! You! Thief! Get back here!”

“Thief?!” Both Ashe and Caspar speak at the same time before they peek out of the office. Ashe makes an audible gulp from his throat while Caspar nearly chokes on his spit.

Running in the hallway with a small fish in its paw is a black and white shorthair cat, scurrying on its hind legs instead of on all fours. An uncommon sight for anyone to see. With curiosity and excitement rising from his chest, Caspar gently passes the sleeping tabby to Bylese. “Come on, Ashe! We’re going to catch that thief! It thinks it’s people!”

“We’re going to what?!” Ashe asks, still flabbergasted at what he just saw.

Bearing a strong grin, Caspar takes Ashe’s hand and pulls him along for the chase. The strange cat had already left the building, but a trail of water coming from the fish it stole was left on the ground. Without any hesitation, Caspar follows it, immediately seeing the back of the cat in a matter of seconds. “Hey! There it is!”

“Caspar! Please! Can we slow down?” Ashe says in between pants. “I think I’m out of shape for a sprint like this.”

“Oh, okay, Ashe,” Caspar obliges, stopping in his steps. He turns around, watching Ashe as he waits for him to catch his breath. Smiling at how adorable Ashe looks, he asks him if he's okay. Ashe gives him a nod before they start running again. Something about chasing after a cat running on its hind legs feels thrilling to him. It is as if he is on an adventure that came from one of the books he read with Linhardt when they were children. This adventure is even more exhilarating to him, especially with Ashe at his side.

Caspar suddenly notices the strange cat turning to jump climb a white brick wall. He swears under his breath, stopping once again when he watches the cat run on top of the wall. The cat then stops, sits down with its hind legs hanging over the wall, and begins eating the fish as if it is a kebab. Caspar lets out another laugh, not being able to believe what he is witnessing at this moment. “Ashe, is it possible for cats to act like humans?”

“I don’t know. This is the first time I’ve seen this too,” Ashe responds. “Bylese did tell me there has been a thief showing up at the café since a year ago and was never caught, but I didn’t expect the thief to be an actual cat.”

Caspar is about to say something until he feels something prickly hit the side of his head. He turns to notice it was a line of fish bones before he looks back up to see the cat standing up again with a smug grin on its face. Being taunted in that manner, by a mere cat no less, Caspar smacks his fist into his hand. “Oh, it’s on, little cat person!”

“Caspar, be careful!” Ashe warns when Caspar starts climbing the wall.

“Haha, whoa. This is high,” Caspar observes as he grasps onto brick by brick. He grits his teeth when he feels a little strain on his right shoulder, but he bears it once he manages to get on top of the wall.

Only for the cat to jump off and run away again.

“Oh, this is fucking bullshit!” Caspar swears aloud, watching as Ashe chases after it. Suddenly pumped up again, he roots for him. “You can do it, Ashe! Go get ‘em!” He scoots himself a bit before he slowly slides down the wall. He makes a safe landing, huffing out a sigh before he dashes off towards the direction to where the cat and Ashe ran off to.

Moments later, both Ashe and Caspar find the cat on its four legs hissing at someone, who turns out to be Mr. Hrym looking solemnly down at it. Caspar lets out a sigh of relief, laughing while catching his breath. “Thanks, Mr. Hrym! You caught the thief!”

“Ubert,” Mr. Hrym simply greets before his dull eyes glance at Caspar. “Burgundy.”

“It’s Bergliez!”

“There you guys are!” Bylese appears when they run over to them. “You managed to catch it.” They then notice Mr. Hrym, who softly smiles at them, his expression shocking Caspar. “Oh! Hello, Jeritza!”

Mr. Hrym curtly nods in response before he looks back down at the cat. “This cat… Is it with you?”

“Oh no,” Bylese denies, crouching down to its eye level. The cat stops hissing at Mr. Hrym before it turns towards the café owner. Bylese softly grins at it when its face holds an apologetic expression. They pet the back of its fur, causing it to give in to their touch. “Its former owner dropped it off with me around a year ago under the pretense of going on vacation, but never came back for it. I tried to offer it a place at the café, but it somehow didn’t like it and kept leaving after snatching some fish away. It didn’t seem to get along with the other cats either since they act strangely human at times.”

“Do they know each other?” Caspar asks Ashe while the two older adults continue to talk.

“Mr. Hrym is a regular, I believe,” Ashe assumes before he notices the cat approaching them. “Oh, hello.”

The cat stops in front of both Ashe and Caspar, sitting down while eyeing both men.

“I think it has taken a liking to you,” Bylese says before they propose an offer. “Maybe it’s interested in living with you two.”

“Huh?!” Caspar snaps, furrowing his eyebrows when he notices the cat licking and grooming its fur… like an actual cat does. “Did I imagine all the shit that happened? We literally just chased around this weird guy.” The cat suddenly walks up to him, curling around his ankles. “Oh no. No. No. No. No. No. I am not falling for this.” He then freezes when he hears soft purring, his heart unable to stand it due to his weakness for cats. “Okay! Fine! We’ll adopt it!”

“I don’t mind having another housemate,” Ashe agrees. “Though we probably need to ask Linhardt what they think first.”

“Oh, they’ll be fine with it. They love cats!” Caspar informs before he turns to Mr. Hrym. “Uh, is it okay to keep it?”

Mr. Hrym stares at the cat again, only to begrudgingly sigh before he nods. “I’ll allow it as long as you take care of it.”

“Then it’s settled!” Caspar shouts before he puts his fist in front of the cat. “You hear that, funny cat? We’re your parents now.”

The cat meows before it bumps its paw against his knuckle, causing Caspar to let out an overexcited, boisterous laugh. The rest of the day, both Ashe and Caspar help out at the cat café, as well as signing adoption papers for official documentation purposes. Caspar was also offered an actual paying position at the café from Bylese, which made his whole day better. A new job, a new cat, and a wonderful, fun adventure with Ashe.

Things are looking up for Caspar after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [insert that horrible drawing I drew of Caspar on the toilet with the cat in his boxers here]  
> (((look it up on my twitter (myrmcheck) if you are curious enough to feel regret)))
> 
> Thank you for reading. Have a nice rest of your day/evening.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caspar and Ashe name their new cat. Caspar checks on Linhardt while finding out something special about Mr. Hrym. Ashe talks with Dedue about his future. Linhardt ends up doing more work than he wants to do and even attends the welcome party for the new doctor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. How are you today?
> 
> Posting this update before I leave to heck (going to the motherland to visit my s/o for Lunar New Years yeeeeee).
> 
> I have no idea what to really say in these things when there is nothing I have to warn in particular,,,,
> 
> Sorry for making Byleth a freaking weirdo though.  
> And maybe sorry if Linhardt comes off too flirty for you guys. aorijeoajreo
> 
> As always, thank you to my betas, but I must confess that one of my betas tends to be "late" and I end up updating the chapter before they beta because I am impatient. I do end up including their edits/grammar fix suggestions afterwards though. Apologies in case this reveal bothers you especially if you expect a masterpiece, but this is more of a mess [reminder: FOR FUN] than a wonderful work of fanfiction.

Caspar, Ashe, and Linhardt are lounging in the living area after dinner. On the day Caspar and Ashe had brought their new housemate home, the cat immediately adapted to the place as if it had already lived there before. Linhardt was beyond surprised when he observed the cat standing and walking on its hind legs. He was so intrigued until the cat tried to steal his bed, which he didn't appreciate since the cat refused to even share it. Both Caspar and Ashe apologized and went to the pet shop to buy a cat bed among other things, such as toys and a litterbox. All was well except the cat taking one of Linhardt's favorite stuffed animals, which he reluctantly let the "damned furball" keep.

“So, what do we name this little guy?” Caspar asks.

“You didn't name him when you were signing the adoption papers?” Ashe inquires while playing with the cat on the floor. “Did he have a name from his former owner?”

“Strangely, no. Bylese said the previous owner never told them much either,” Caspar tells him when he sits up on the couch. “So, I thought it would be best for the both of us to decide on a name together! We're his parents now!” He then turns to Linhardt, who is sitting at the countertop table reading a book. “Hm, how about ‘Linhardt’?”

Looking up from his book and raising an eyebrow at the bizarre suggestion, Linhardt gives his best friend a pointed stare. “You are not naming the cat after me.”

“Hahaha, I kid! I kid!” Caspar laughs before he thinks for more name ideas. “What do we already know about him?”

“Well, he's quite a charismatic little fellow when he stands,” Ashe begins to list. “He's more clever than most cats I've interacted with. He also seems to have some sort of etiquette when he eats raw fish. He tends to get grumpy if there's a lot of loud noise. It's as if he's an old man.”

“And he's a food thief!” Caspar adds before he suddenly gets an idea. His eyes sparkle in excitement. “He's a little thief… A little thiefy.”

“A little thiefy?” Ashe repeats.

“A little thiefy!” Caspar says in return. He then breaks into song with Ashe jumping in after. “Thiefy Thiefy Bo Beefy~”

“Banana fana fo feefy~”

“Fee fi mo meefy~”

“Thiefy!” they chant together in the end. The cat responds with a happy mew afterwards.

Closing his book and getting up from his seat, Linhardt makes his way to the laundry room. He mutters out loud, “Queefy.”

“No!” Ashe denies the absurd suggestion with a wheeze.

“YUCK,” Caspar retorts out of disgust. He suddenly jumps at a loud boom coming from the laundry room, leaning over the couch to see what is happening. “Linhardt, everything okay? Need any help?” He hears a faint "I'm fine", but he ignores it as he scrambles over to check on his best friend.

In the laundry room, many empty baskets have been scattered over the floor. Linhardt lets out a sigh before he crouches down, grabbing his clothes from the dryer. He begins to carelessly chuck them into the nearest basket, murmuring to himself about picking up the other baskets later.

“Oh, let me help!” Caspar offers, but he frowns when Linhardt swats him away. “Oh, come on! It'll be faster! You have a lot to fold here. Just let me pick up the baskets at least.”

“I can take care of it myself,” Linhardt states, tossing his clothes aggressively into the basket.

“Linhardt...” Caspar utters, feeling a little dejected. He has noticed that he and his best friend have been distant as of late. During the holidays, Caspar decided to spend it with his former coach and her wife in Dagda while Linhardt ended up hanging out with a few mutual friends they've known since high school. Ever since Caspar got a job at the cat café, he doesn’t see Linhardt often at home due to his internship schedule. During the rare days they see each other especially today, Caspar has sensed something off about Linhardt's behavior. He feels guilty, thinking that he's the one affecting his friend's mood. While knowing his best friend isn't one to talk about his feelings, Caspar wants to be closer to him again. “Is everything alright?”

Stopping in the middle of retrieving the rest of his clothes, Linhardt stares at him, a little blankly this time. “I said I'm fine. They all fell over on top of the machines, but I didn't get hurt or anything.”

“Well, I'm glad that you didn't get hurt,” Caspar says with a relieved smile, but his eyes are still filled with worry. “But I mean, is everything else okay? You know you can talk to me about anything. Even if you don't feel like it, just know that I'll always be here for you, buddy.”

For a mere second, there is some glint in Linhardt's eyes that Caspar didn't quite catch. He tries to move to get a better look at his old friend’s face, but Linhardt immediately turns his back on him and returns to his laundry. Linhardt is silent for a moment until he finally decides to speak. “Do you remember the physical therapist who took care of you before you had to transfer to the rehab center in Enbarr?”

“Dr. Eisner?” Caspar asks, earning a nod. “Yeah, I remember them. Their twin is my boss at the cat café.” He watches as Linhardt grabs the last piece of clothing from the dryer. Watching Linhardt staying still for a moment, he notices his hesitation. “Why? Did something happen?”

“They're the new doctor in my department,” Linhardt informs. Closing the door of the dryer, he lifts up the basket of clothes. “They've already started evaluating my work ethic, so I feel like I have to put in more effort despite being told that I'm already doing a good job.”

“Oh really? That's cool! I'm sure you can do it!” Caspar comments, picking up the baskets and putting them back on the shelf, much to his friend's reluctance. “But it’s Dr. Eisner who inspired you to be a physical therapist, right?” 

Linhardt gives a positive hum as they both walk out of the laundry room. “They're one of two reasons I decided to take this course.”

“Oh yeah? What's the other reason?” Caspar asks. He glances over to the living area and sees Ashe playing with Little Thiefy. He laughs at the scene before him. Ashe rolls a small blue ball towards the cat while the cat passes it back with its paw. He finds it adorable, especially when he sees the bright smile on Ashe's face. Seeing that particular smile always makes his heart feel full. 

Caspar then turns around to head into Linhardt's room but ends up bumping into him. He stumbles a bit before regaining his balance. Linhardt has been blocking the doorway, palms against the door post with the intent of not letting him in. Caspar frowns again. “Hey! What gives?”

“I'll be folding my clothes alone,” Linhardt states before a slight smirk graces his lips. “Unless you want to touch my underwear.”

“It's just underwear, Linnie. I've seen you walk around in it all the time! You even sleep in it too.” Linhardt raises an eyebrow, which causes Caspar to realize how possibly suggestive he sounded. “Not saying I watch you while you sleep or anything! You literally lie out here with your nightgown riding up your ass and showing your panty briefs!” 

“Oh?” Linhardt speaks while his fingers begin to play with the drawstring of his sweatpants. “Have you been checking me out all this time?”

Caspar gulps when his attention turns towards Linhardt’s fingers. His face suddenly heats up when he notices how dangerously low Linhardt's sweats are sagging below his waist. He sees the expanse of skin between his cute tummy and his thighs, his breath stuck in his throat when he realizes Linhardt isn’t wearing anything underneath. He looks up at Linhardt, who looks mildly shocked due to being blatantly checked out by his best friend just now.

“Gentlemen.”

Caspar shrieks at the sound of a low voice, turning around to see Mr. Hrym carrying a box. Trying to get the mental image of Linhardt's hips, among other lewd thoughts out of his head, he growls at the landlord. “Where the hell did you come from?!”

“The front door obviously,” Mr. Hrym nonchalantly states before shoving the box into Caspar's hands. “This is for the little monster.”

“Oh, heck. Thanks!” Caspar praises, opening the box to see assorted blocks and cylinders that are needed to build a cat tower. “Holy shit! This is so cool! Little Thiefy is going to love it! Thanks again, Mr. Hrym!”

“Little Thiefy…” Mr. Hrym utters before he crosses his arms. “Burgess.”

“It’s Bergliez.”

“Your shoulder…” Mr. Hrym nods towards him. “How is it?”

“Huh?” Caspar responds in confusion. He hustles the box into his left arm while rolling his right. Cracking his neck, he slowly moves his shoulder up and down but doesn’t feel any pain. “It’s fine. Why?”

“I feel remorseful,” Mr. Hrym says. He stops for a moment and turns his head towards him. “Do exercise caution. Your wall-climbing yesterday was worrisome.”

“Um, okay. Will do,” Caspar assures, waving goodbye as the landlord leaves. Something about Mr. Hrym’s concern about his shoulder makes him feel odd, but he can’t figure out why. Anyone who happens to know about his shoulder injury should be aware of his fighting career, but he never mentioned a single word of it to the landlord.

Linhardt, who had been watching the exchange the whole time, calls him. “Caspar?”

Upon sudden realization, Caspar turns to his best friend with a nervous expression. “Linhardt… Mr. Hrym… I think I know who he is.”

“Well, I was going to tell you,” Linhardt says in an apologetic tone. “But I was being mindful since I didn’t want to bring up any bad memories.”

“Hey, buddy. I told you a bunch of times I’m over it,” Caspar reassures, settling the box down onto the floor. He starts laughing to himself, overwhelmed with disbelief over what he had figured out. “I really can’t believe this though. My landlord… Jeritza von Hrym…”

“Caspar…”

“I can’t believe Mr. Hrym is one of my fans!” Caspar belts out as he roars into happy laughter that startles Little Thiefy. He turns to Ashe, who is trying to calm the cat down. “Can’t you believe this, Ashe? Mr. Hrym is a fan of mine!”

“What a surprise,” Ashe responds, the worried tone in his voice ignored while Caspar does a silly little dance out of celebration.

_ I should give him something as a thanks for his support! _ Caspar thinks to himself before he dashes to his room.

For a moment he feels he forgot something, but he shrugs it off due to his enthusiasm over discovering that one of his loyal fans still exist.

Linhardt, shaking his head over how dense his best friend is, goes back to sorting his laundry.

Ashe, on the other hand, is feeling troubled over something else.

On his next day of work, Ashe heads to the restaurant a little early to help prepare for opening. He manages to catch up with his friends and fellow coworkers during his shift, feeling joyful when they all work together in the kitchen. As soon as his first break starts, he makes his way to the break room, where Dedue has been waiting for him. Ashe didn't have the chance to speak with his old friend after coming back from his week-off vacation. Dedue ended up taking a longer vacation through the holidays to visit his hometown in Duscur. Now that they're back at work, Ashe knows that he has to make another plan. He begins to ask Dedue for advice, but his words are jumbled and scattered. He doesn't know where to start.

Dedue merely smiles at him. “Let's talk about what you're aiming for first. Why did you apply to Rowe in the first place?”

Laughing sheepishly at the direct question, Ashe answers. “To follow in your footsteps, of course.”

“Why did you want to follow in my footsteps?”

“You inspired me,” Ashe tells him. “Since our cooking video days, I've always watched and learned from you when I supported you. The many ways you've taken cooking and made it your own talent has been admirable. I could go on and on, but…” He pauses for a moment, gathering his thoughts before he continues. “I still don't understand why you decided not to continue with the fame you received.”

“As I've said before, it's not for me,” Dedue says as he crosses his arms. “When I was invited to study at Rowe, I simply chose to go there to expand my horizons while tuning my skills. The goal I was pursuing at the time was to learn something new outside of my cooking repertoire. However…" He breathes out a sigh, his expression weary. “The fame got in the way of that. I was often bombarded with invitations to guest on shows, which felt more of a circus act instead of genuine cooking. I was often mocked whenever I tried to discuss with producers about the format of the shows. After some appearances, the entertainment business wasn't something I felt comfortable with.”

“I'm so sorry,” Ashe apologizes, feeling regretful. “I didn't know.”

“No need to be sorry,” Dedue assures. His expression turns stern. “We've trailed off a bit, so let's go back to talking about you. I'm happy to know that I've inspired you, but what is  _ your _ goal, Ashe?”

_ That question again _ , Ashe muses while biting his lip. Every time he gets asked this question, his mind immediately comes up blank. He feels at a loss of what to do. He scratches his head and looks down on the table. “I… still haven't figured it out.”

Dedue's expression softens. “Well, how about this? Why do you cook?”

“Why do I cook?” Ashe asks before he replies in a cheerful manner. “It's because I love to cook! I always enjoy experimenting with food at home because of the endless possibilities and combinations to make something delicious. I also cook with the idea that whoever eats it will be full and happy. My housemate Caspar in particular always praises me every time I make food for him. He's often a really optimistic kind of guy, but my heart nearly flutters when he…” He pauses for a moment when he notices Dedue raising one of his brows. He suddenly gets flustered. “Oh my goddess. I trailed off again, didn't I? I'm so sorry.”

“Calm down, Ashe. It's alright,” Dedue reassures him with a knowing smile. “It seems you've taken a liking to him.”

“I-I,” Ashe stutters, his face turning red. Being honest with himself, he hasn't been able to get Caspar out of his mind lately. He first admired him for being positive, his optimism being highly contagious. His admiration for him, however, slowly became more than that. Ashe isn't sure when he fell for Caspar. Whether it was the day Caspar moved in, the day when their house rules were established, or the day Caspar took him along to chase after Thiefy…

He doesn't know.

But he knows that he is completely infatuated with him.

“Ooh,” a playful voice coos, prompting both Ashe and Dedue to turn to see Sylvain walking in. “Ashe got a crush on his housemate? I'd say go for it!” He suddenly furrows his eyebrows. “Unless he's dating your other housemate.”

Ashe lets out a whine and buries his face into his hands. While Caspar and Linhardt have said that they aren't dating each other, he can't help but notice there is something unspoken between them. Then again, he might have taken Linhardt's non-serious flirting too literally. He can never tell when it comes to them.

“It's almost time to go back to work,” Dedue says. He then gets up from the table and reaches into his uniform pocket to pull out an envelope. “You still have time to think about your goal, but in terms of programs to transfer to, I thought you might be interested in this. It was sent to me from the Association.”

Taking the envelope and opening it, Ashe pulls out a flyer to read the following:

_ The Fódlan Culinary Association in collaboration with Arianrhod University presents… _

_ Chefs of Ambition Showdown, a tournament where Fódlan's young, aspiring chefs cook against each other to reach the top! The Top 3 contestants will win a scholarship to study in Arianrhod University's Culinary Arts program. All participants will also have the opportunity to be mentored by famous chefs of the continent. _

_ To enter, aspiring chefs must print and fill out the entry form from the FCA's website, mail or drop off the form at Arianrhod University's Culinary Arts Department on any campus. _

Sylvain whistles. “A cook-off against other chefs from around the continent? Sounds like a blast! I didn't know Arianrhod University had a Culinary Arts program though.”

“Arianrhod University is more known for its health and medical programs,” Dedue explains. “While their culinary arts program is fairly new, it is already considered one of the top five in all of Fódlan. It is worth researching.”

“Oh my. I'm not sure if I can handle this,” Ashe nervously says. The thought of entering a competition makes him anxious enough. He doesn't even feel sure if his cooking skills are enough to take him to the top. He is also aware that he doesn't have a lot of time before he graduates from his community college. While there is still incentive for participating in this tournament, he doesn't feel confident about being scouted by one of the most renowned chefs in all of Fódlan.

“Hey. Hey. Chin up, Ashe,” Sylvain comforts while patting him on the shoulder. “I understand that this seems scary, but it's worth a try, yeah?” He then gives him a wink. “You'll never know. You might look cooler to your hunk of a housemate and have him fall in love with you or even better… Both of your housemates fall in love with yo- Ow!”

“Stop saying such ridiculous nonsense and clock in, Sylvain,” Ingrid scolds with a jab to his side as she walks in.

Ashe splutters at the thought, but he pushes it aside. He thanks Dedue for the flyer before heading back to work.

He makes a mental note to enter the competition later in the week.

He might not have an exact goal right now, but he is willing to take any opportunity he can get.

It is another late afternoon at his internship, but Linhardt finds himself to be terribly exhausted. Ever since he started putting more effort into his tasks given by Dr. Eisner, he immediately regrets it. He even went as far as assisting the other doctors in the department, nearly scaring Marianne out of her wits when he offered to sanitize the equipment in her place. Annette even asked him if he was feeling under the weather, mainly due to the fact that he had never bothered to do more than what he's assigned. If someone were to ask him why he decided to change his work ethic, he simply would not know how to answer.

He just knows that he finds Dr. Eisner very attractive.

Perhaps too attractive, despite being granted the lovely sight of the doctor digging into his ear and flicking their earwax away in their office. 

While accompanying the doctor to visit individual patients in their rooms, Linhardt has noticed the doctor's unmannerly habits, such as outright stating that a patient has an "eye booger" on their face or surprising a child with superhero theatrics by using their own lab coat as a cape. Linhardt normally finds these actions rather distasteful and childish, though he often gets scolded for doing the former in his own manner of bluntness. Something about Dr. Eisner's carefree personality reminds him a bit of himself, but there is something different about it that he can't understand yet.

Blinking out from his thoughts, Linhardt knocks on the door to get their attention. “Dr. Eisner, I have compiled the reports you asked for.”

“Oh?” Dr. Eisner responds, doing a few spins in their brown leather chair before taking the stack of reports. They skim and flip through the papers until they raise both of their eyebrows. “These are actually very well organized. Very helpful.” They look up before smiling. “Thank you, Dr. Hevring.”

“You're welcome,” Linhardt says before wheezing into his arm to compose himself. Receiving praise from anyone other than Caspar is still something he hasn’t quite adapted to yet. He can’t deny that he likes it though. He then clears his throat before continuing. “Dr. Essar also wants to know if you will be attending your welcome party tonight after work.”

“A welcome party?” Dr. Eisner repeats, blinking at him. “Where at?”

“Fish Money.”

Dr. Eisner lets out a loud "HAH!" at the name, which startles Linhardt for a moment. They drop the reports onto their desk before they simply answer. “Okay.”

“I'll let him know then,” Linhardt tells them. He is about to excuse himself until he hears a question.

“Will you be coming too?”

“What? Me?” Linhardt inquires, earning a nod.  _ Oh my. What on Fódlan am I getting myself into? _ he asks himself. Normally he skips out on work gatherings because he would rather go home and sleep, and yet...

Fast-forward to the evening, and here he is, dining with his colleagues and superiors for Dr. Eisner's welcome party at Fish Money.

It has only been a half an hour, and his superiors are already intoxicated with alcohol and blabbering with food in their mouths. The colleagues he usually enjoys conversing with aren't present. Annette is busy in the kitchen since she works as a part-time chef at the restaurant, and Marianne left early to spend time with her girlfriend Hilda. He feels out of place since he usually doesn't attend these meetings, and the main reason he even bothered to go to this outing in particular is quietly eating their food in front of him. He then stiffens when their eyes meet, realizing he had been absentmindedly staring at them the whole time.

Before Linhardt can look away, Dr. Eisner grins at him. “Everything okay, Linhardt? You hardly touched your food.”

A bit taken aback of not being addressed formally, Linhardt tries to compose himself after taking a sip from his glass of water. “Oh, I'm fine, but should we really be on a first-name basis?”

“We're not at work. It's fine,” Dr. Eisner assures. “You can call me Byleth.”

Linhardt stares at them. “Dr. Eisner.”

“Well, whatever suits you,” the doctor says begrudgingly, but their tone lacks any malice. They then cut a small piece of salmon before bringing it to Linhardt's plate. “You should eat more. It's good to have some more protein in your diet. Your plate is mostly full of carbs. We should get you more leafy greens too.”

“Wait, I- Doctor,” Linhardt stammers while watching the doctor pile more food onto his plate. It is another gesture of kindness that he hasn’t become accustomed to. He thinks back on the numerous times Caspar would nag on him to eat more food. Now that he realizes it, Caspar has always taken good care of him, though he finds it a little strange that he keeps thinking about him during times like these.

Then there is Ashe. Despite both of them rarely talking to each other due to their schedules, Linhardt has started to appreciate the prepared lunches that are made for him, especially the small desserts that Ashe sometimes hides from his prying hands. When it comes to food, Linhardt tries to vary out what he eats daily aside from bread, noodles, and desserts. Otherwise, he would immediately get tired of eating them within the next day, but for some reason the taste of Ashe’s cooking never gets tiresome to him. It’s as if there is a sentimental value behind it, a certain warmth that always envelops him upon every spoonful.

Speaking of Ashe, Linhardt notices his housemate in his chef uniform making his rounds. As Caspar would always voice how cute Ashe is, Linhardt admits that he does have a unique charm. The uniform makes his appearance rather professional, along with a certain level of masculinity that piques a certain feeling that he probably shouldn’t think much about at this moment. Added to all that charisma is a sweet, gentle, and kind young man.

When their eyes meet, he smiles in amusement at the surprised look he’s given, prompting him to wave at his housemate. His face softens when Ashe returns the greeting before heading back into the kitchen.

He thanks Dr. Eisner for the food before he starts to eat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading.
> 
> There's really no point in me sharing my social media since I'm mostly going to be [WHITE NOISE] for a week, but I am myrmcheck on twitter.  
> I also can't wait for the upcoming DLC to destroy me. God I hope Linhardt and Ashe got some dialogue or some interaction together, plus HILDA HILDA! Yay!
> 
> Have a good day!!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Linhardt tells Ashe the reasons he chose to pursue physical therapy. Ashe and Linhardt go to the market together. Caspar prepares a special treat for Mr. Hrym at the cat cafe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. How are you today?
> 
> This chapter is mostly Linhardt/Ashe but Caspar will have his fun in the end. Whoopie!
> 
> Also want to let you know that all chapters including this one are fully beta'd now. Yaaaaaay. Thanks to tartaupom, Tochisuke, and vixen for always cleaning up my messy mess mess!!! Special thanks to Noodle for beta-ing a little too... Reason I have more than one beta looking over my writing because I always have the worst problems with wordiness. Hee ho.
> 
> Anyways, enjoy?!

In the kitchen, Ashe is doing some research on Arianrhod University's culinary arts program on his laptop. He sucks in his breath when he goes through the curriculum, which contains a lot of intensive courses taught by highly trained instructors. The thought of going through these courses in a short amount of time intimidates him at first, but he tells himself to persevere. If he wants to figure out his goal in cooking, the only important thing for him to do right now is to try. 

With sudden determination, Ashe goes to the Fódlan Culinary Association's website and finds the entry form to print out. After filling out the form and slipping it inside of a sealed envelope, he closes his laptop and stands up from the countertop table. He is about to decide whether he should mail the form or go directly to the university's culinary arts department office, but he has never been to any of Arianrhod University's campuses before. He debates on his choice for a moment until he sees Linhardt coming out from their room. Laughing when they let out a deliberately vocal yawn, he suddenly notices a thin gold chain around their neck, connected to a pair of round spectacles adorned on their face. “Oh, good morning, Linhardt. I didn't know you wore glasses.”

“I dropped my contacts in the sink drain. It's what I deserve for reading a book while trying to put them on at the same time,” Linhardt grumbles while opening a top cabinet for an empty bowl and a box of cereal.

“Oh no. I'm so sorry to hear that,” Ashe replies, hearing his housemate mutter about their misfortune not being a huge issue. He suddenly gets an idea of asking Linhardt to accompany him to the university, but he feels hesitant due to their seemingly moody behavior. He watches them grab a carton of milk from the fridge, noticing how delicately they pour it into their bowl of cereal. The gold chain of Linhardt's glasses dangle upon every movement they make. The lenses themselves make Linhardt look intelligent and refined, perhaps making their appearance more attractive than ever.

After putting the milk away, Linhardt grabs a spoon from the utensil holder and walks to the countertop with their breakfast. They look at Ashe, who immediately catches himself from staring. They flash a smug grin at him. “Like what you see?”

Ashe nervously laughs before he apologizes. “Sorry. You just look really good in those glasses.”

“Thank you, but I don't mind if you stare. I know I'm pretty,” Linhardt says casually before they begin to eat.

Chuckling due to their lack of modesty, Ashe then attempts to ask them: “Would you happen to be free today, Linhardt? Caspar is at work, so I was wondering if you could come with me to Arianrhod University's culinary arts department.”

Linhardt hums in a questioning tone, chewing their food while looking at the envelope in Ashe's hand.

“I plan on entering a competition the school is holding with the Fódlan Culinary Association,” Ashe explains, smiling when he hears an intrigued response. “The top three candidates of the competition will receive a scholarship to study at Arianrhod's culinary arts program while general participants have the chance to be mentored by a famous chef. I'm mainly entering because I haven't figured out my goal in cooking yet, but I'm willing to try anything while gaining some more experience.”

After gulping down the leftover milk from their bowl, Linhardt asks. “You don't have a goal?”

Ashe tries to ignore the sinking feeling in his chest every time he receives that particular question. 

He opens his mouth to answer, but closes it when Linhardt adds. “Well there's something we have in common. I don't particularly have one either.”

“You don't?” Ashe inquires, surprised. He didn't expect someone as smart as Linhardt to not have a plan with the path they have chosen. “I'm sorry. I assumed that you were set since you're studying physical therapy.”

“There's no need to apologize,” Linhardt shakes their head as they stand up and bring their bowl to the sink. As they begin to wash their dishes, they raise their voice over the sounds of water running and bowl scrubbing. “I only chose physical therapy because of two reasons. The first reason is just mere inspiration by a doctor's kindness, but if I were to elaborate it will just end about me struggling with my emotions and dealing with a raging hard-on when I work with this doctor.” 

Ashe nearly chokes on his spit. “I'm sorry?”

“One of the doctors I'm studying under happens to be a former physician of Caspar's,” Linhardt informs as they continue. “I find them to be very strange sometimes. They often skip into the office throwing paper flowers everywhere or drum their pencils on random colleagues. Oh, how I wish they would drum on me instead.” They turn their head to see Ashe gape at them. They huff out a laugh at his bewildered expression before turning back to clean. “In all seriousness, it was their kindness and empathy that inspired me to go into physical therapy. Empathy is a trait required for dealing with patients, but I admit I lack it. I always feel sorry for whoever has to deal with me as a doctor. While I don't detest what I'm studying at the moment, I sometimes feel that I'm not suited for the field because I can't relate to those suffering from accidents. I also get uncomfortable at the sight of blood and missing limbs, but I'm doing all I can to improve.”

“I don't think you lack empathy, Linhardt. In fact, far from it. You're clearly concerned about the patients you work with, but you're still willing to learn how to show you care,” Ashe acknowledges, watching them shut the water off. They turn around with a bemused expression on their face. Ashe smiles before he asks. “What's the second reason?”

Grabbing a rag to dry off the bowl, Linhardt looks lost in thought. They simply reply. “Caspar.”

“Caspar?” Ashe repeats, feeling an indescribable stirring in his chest. While he has already come to terms with his feelings for him, the thought of talking about it with Linhardt makes him anxious. He decides to hold off on it when he sees a sad smile on their face.

“I'm sure he already told you about his accident,” Linhardt begins, receiving a nod. Putting the dry bowl back into the cabinet, they let out a sigh before they continue. “I saw it when it happened. Initially, I didn't want to go because I can't stand any type of violence, but the match was very important to him. He invited me to come watch under the pretense that he was going to tell me something if he won, which he never did because well, obviously he lost despite the false circumstances. After his surgery, it was when I met the doctor who inspired me, but due to being a foreigner Caspar had to transfer to another doctor in our country. He went through all that rehabilitation for his shoulder, only to be told that he couldn't fight anymore.

“He was so devastated that day. For someone who is normally cheerful and brimming with positive energy, he looked like he was in so much pain. Fighting was what he enjoyed and loved to do, but it was taken away from him, just like that. He would still watch some matches on his phone from time to time, but I…” Linhardt pauses for a moment, their eyes misty. They take a deep breath before continuing. “I know that he really wishes he could go back and fight. While I prefer not to see him go through all that violence and getting hurt again, I still want to help him. I want to figure out some way for his shoulder to heal up completely so he can fight once more. I...” They remove their glasses and rub their eyes with the back of their hand. They croak out. “I just want him to be happy.”

“Linhardt…” Ashe speaks, feeling at a loss for words. He is about to move to grab them a box of tissues, but Linhardt raises their hand to stop him.

They shortly manage to compose themselves. Putting their glasses back on, Linhardt lets out a hiccup. They suddenly groan. “Ugh, sorry. I normally don't let my emotions out like that.”

“You don't have to apologize, Linhardt. It's fine to let it out,” Ashe assures, but frowns when he sees them visibly stiffen. He hesitantly asks. “You really care about Caspar a lot... don't you?”

Linhardt's eyes widen for a brief moment before their expression softens. “Well, after knowing him for a long time, it's a given that I do.” They lean over the counter as their lips curl up into a playful smirk. “You could even say that I've been in love with him.”

“O-oh?” Ashe stutters, taken aback by their confession. While he isn't surprised regardless whether or not Linhardt's feelings for Caspar are true, he feels a little guilty, especially after listening to their story. There is no doubt that Linhardt cares about Caspar a lot, perhaps more than they seem to admit. Knowing that both Caspar and Linhardt have been close friends for several years, he suddenly doesn't want to get in the way of their relationship. Thinking that he shouldn't act on his own feelings, he decides to support Linhardt instead. “Linhardt, you're very admirable. While it may be personal, I think what you want to do for Caspar can be its own goal. I'm sure he will appreciate your effort.”

Linhardt gives him a mix between a pointed and blank stare. Ashe tries to think back on what he just said due to their reaction, but his thoughts get cut off by a wheeze of laughter. Sniffling after a snort, Linhardt finally responds while they head to their room. “Let me get changed before we go.”

“Huh?” Ashe replies, confused by their sudden change of behavior until he recalls the envelope in his hand. He heaves out a sigh.

He doesn't know if he is even able to get over his feelings for Caspar.

Linhardt doesn’t expect that accompanying Ashe on his little errand would be fun. Watching Ashe look awestruck as they both walk through the campus and into the culinary arts building, Linhardt finds the look of astonishment on Ashe's face quite endearing. Every classroom they pass by has an enticing mix of savory aromas. Some students have even offered free samples for them to eat, which Linhardt graciously takes advantage of before Ashe has to drag them away. After Ashe has dropped off his entry form at the department office, both of them leave the campus and take the train back home.

Once they reach their stop, Ashe tells Linhardt that he needs to go to the market to buy some food. Not having anything better to do other than to nap, Linhardt decides to come along with him. When they both arrive at the market, Linhardt groans at how crowded it is, seeing swarms of people coming and going between various food stalls and booths. “I know I shouldn't complain since I wanted to join you, but how long will this take?”

“Oh, I usually take around fifteen to twenty minutes, but I'll try to be quick,” Ashe replies while pulling a shopping cart out from its chain. He splutters when Linhardt climbs into it. “Linhardt, what are you doing?”

“Protecting myself from the unfortunate chances of an old lady grabbing my ass,” Linhardt answers, smiling when they hear Ashe laugh. They adjust themself comfortably despite the hard metal frame, allowing their legs to dangle out from the cart. 

They feel relieved as Ashe manages to push the cart with ease. They both go from food stall to food stall, gathering up bags of vegetables and fruits along with packs of meat and bottles of seasoning. Linhardt even tries to sneak some unhealthy snacks into the cart, unable to restrain their amusement when Ashe scolds them to either pay for themself or put them back. They do get a strange feeling when Ashe buys them something sweet from a street food vendor, thanking him before they indulge themself into a fried sugary donut. At some point during the grocery trip, Linhardt dozes off with a bag of gummy bears in their arms, but they jolt themself awake when they hear Ashe gasp in front of a stall selling books and games.

“Oh goddess,” Ashe whispers. “It's the limited-edition figurine of legendary Innes of Frelia!”

“Huh,” Linhardt sleepily responds, intrigued by Ashe's sudden interest. “Are you a fan of the Magvel series, Ashe?” They then recall the massive collection of adventure books in their living area, along with a glimpse of figurines from the series whenever they pass by Ashe's room. “Oh, of course you are. You even have some merch from the Tellius series as well, which happens to be my all-time favorite.”

“Aha, I'm a fan of both actually, but wow. I know you like to read, Linhardt, but I didn't expect you to be into this series,” Ashe admits while his cheeks suddenly turn red. “It's actually embarrassing, but I've been reading these books since I was a kid. The stories were so captivating and the characters were so wonderfully written. I often got scolded for not putting any of the books down to focus on my studies, but they always kept me company whenever I felt lonesome.”

“Embarrassing?” Linhardt reiterates, finding Ashe's experience relatable. “Oh, Ashe. There's nothing embarrassing in talking about your favorite things. I do it all the time. I, too, grew up with the series. I was mostly holed up in my room reading before I met Caspar. He did read some of them with me, but he isn't one to sit still and continue after one page.” He smiles warmly when Ashe gives him a surprised look. “We should've talked about this earlier. It's always so refreshing to find someone who shares the same interests.”

“I feel the same way!” Ashe excitedly agrees before they both laugh. They talk a little longer about their favorite series, from discussing their favorite scenes to talking about their favorite characters. Something about the joy on Ashe's face while they talk together brings a soothing warmth in Linhardt's chest. At this point, they may even share Caspar's urges to kiss him due to his adorableness. Adding to the thought, they wonder how Ashe will react if they start teasing him a little more.

Ashe later returns his attention back to the figurine, but he regrettably leaves it due to its expensive, non-bargainable price.

Seeing the disappointed glint in his eyes, Linhardt attempts to swipe it before they leave the market.

Only to have them get chased by the merchant a couple of minutes later.

After getting caught, both Linhardt and Ashe are sent to the police station due to the merchant charging for attempted theft.

“Linhardt!” Caspar exclaims in disbelief. He was in the middle of cleaning some litterboxes before he received a text from his best friend. After being told that Linhardt and Ashe were at the police station, he ends up sending Linhardt a video call because he is worried. “What the hell did you drag Ashe into?!”

“Wow, Caspar. You wound me,” Linhardt feigns being offended before they grin. “I just wanted to give Ashe a nice gift.”

“You were practically stealing it,” Ashe's voice interjects. Caspar lets out a sigh of relief. He is happy to know that both of them are safe at least. He laughs at the sudden awkward angle of Ashe's face next to Linhardt's, finding Ashe's confused look towards the phone camera very cute. Both he and Linhardt mutter something between themselves that Caspar can't hear until Ashe manages to adjust the view on himself. “Anyways, despite Linhardt returning the figurine, the merchant refused to budge and I got labeled as an accomplice.”

“You wouldn't be labeled as an accomplice if you didn't continue pushing the cart,” Linhardt comments.

“But the merchant was yelling and chasing us with a sword!” 

“I agree it was terrifying, but it was a nice replica of Ragnell he had in his hand,” Linhardt says, followed by a dreamy sigh. “And what a big Ragnell too…”

“Linhardt!”

“Haha, well I'm glad you two are having fun together,” Caspar tells them before his concern returns. “But uh, did you have to pay for any fines?”

“Oh, don't worry about that,” Linhardt assures while taking their phone back. “I called Ferdinand for help, and Hubert immediately came to save the day.”

“You did WHAT,” Caspar shouts, startling some cats nearby. He rubs his face in distraught as a slight headache forms in his nerves. While he isn't directly involved with Linhardt's shoplifting shenanigans, the fact that he called  _ him _ of all people leaves him annoyed. Not wanting to deal with this issue in the middle of his shift, Caspar ends the call. “Look, we'll talk about this later, Linhardt. I have to get back to work.” He softly grins when he sees Ashe peeking at the camera. “See you back at home, Ashe!”

“Bye Caspar!”

Letting out a chuckle, Caspar hangs up and slips his phone back into his pocket.

“Bergenia.”

“HOLY SNICKERING SNOT!” Caspar squeals when a familiar low voice speaks. He turns around, his eyes narrowed towards Mr. Hrym. “You know, I'm starting to think that you're doing this on purpose.”

“Doing what on purpose?” Mr. Hrym inquires, his sharp eyes peering down on him.

“Messing up my surname and appearing out of nowhere,” Caspar lists from the top of his head. He looks down and notices a red paperback in his hands. “What you got there?”

“Never mind this,” Mr. Hrym immediately dismisses. “Where is Bylese?”

“They went to run some errands,” Caspar tells him, earning a heavy sigh in response. The sudden gloomy look on his landlord's face surprises him. “Is something wrong? Anything I can help with?” He then recalls finding out a certain something about Mr. Hrym, erupting into a fit of giggles when he has an idea. “Hold on, I got just the thing! Have a seat! I'll whip up something really good for ya!”

“But I am not here to-”

“Don't worry about it! It'll be on me!” Caspar insists. His grin broadens when his landlord reluctantly goes to an empty table and sits down.

He heads to the cafe's kitchen, where some of his coworkers are busy preparing food for visitors with Little Thiefy observing them from the cash register. He asks one of them to assist him with making something from the dessert menu, not trusting himself to cook anything on his own. Once they are done, Caspar thanks his coworker before bringing a tray over to Mr. Hrym's table. “Alright, here you go! One cookies and cream ice cream macaron sandwich on the house!”

“My word,” Mr. Hrym utters, gazing in awe towards the dessert before him. Sitting on a tray before him is a plate with a thick scoop of ice cream molded between two cat-shaped monochrome cookies. He looks up at Caspar with a gentle smile on his face. “What's the occasion?”

“Oh, it's nothing much,” Caspar answers, happy to see his landlord's positive response. He then notices the red book from earlier facing up on the table. Its title reads, “100 Fancy Ways to Propose to Your One True Love”. He gawks at his landlord. “Holy shit! You're proposing to someone?” Mr. Hrym flips the book over while letting out an exasperated grunt. Caspar suddenly gets excited. “Then just take this as a ‘good luck’ treat! It's my way of thanking you for your support as one of my fans!”

Mr. Hrym's expression drops into befuddlement. “I beg your pardon?”

“What?” Caspar asks, suddenly confused himself. “You're not my fan?”

Mr. Hrym blinks at him before he starts eating the dessert.

Not receiving an answer, Caspar starts to question. “If you're not my fan, then how did you know about my shoulder injury?”

Chewing thoughtfully, Mr. Hrym takes a glance towards Caspar's shoulder. He gulps down his food before he replies with a question of his own. “If given the chance, would you face the demon who has caused you harm in a rematch for revenge?”

“Revenge?” Caspar repeats before he laughs. “Haha, nah! If you asked me back then, I would've said ‘yes’, but right now I don't think revenge would do me any good. The guy was hired by a rich gambler to throw me out of the tournament. He wasn't an actual fighter, but rumors say he used to participate in illegal underground matches. While I still get mad about being crushed by a guy like that, I don't think I'm in the condition for a rematch against a guy as big as…” He eyes Mr. Hrym's body for a moment, noticing how toned and bulky he is. He finds this to be rather strange. He can’t describe this dubious feeling, but he thinks something is familiar about his landlord. “Now that I think about it, he was kind of your size. He was also the same height as you.”

All of the sudden, Mr. Hrym abruptly stands up from his seat, causing the chair to clatter onto the floor. The sound startles everyone in the cafe while Little Thiefy hisses from the kitchen counter. Mr. Hrym clears his throat, mutters an apology for the disturbance, and picks up his book. He then breathes harshly through his nose before he turns to Caspar. “Thank you for this scrumptious delight. May I take the rest to-go?”

Caspar doesn't hear him for a moment. He feels that something is off about his landlord, who is normally a man of little emotion. While he feels glad to have seen many sides of him today, the side he is witnessing at this moment has an intimidating air. The sharpness in Mr. Hrym's eyes is much more menacing, his lavender irises tinted in a pinker hue. It leaves Caspar frozen, a familiar type of stiffness that he has experienced before.

“Jeritza? Caspar?” Bylese's voice calls, prompting him to snap out of his daze. He turns to see the cafe owner looking concerned. They ask, “Everything alright here? Or are you two having a staring contest?”

“Ah, you're here,” Mr. Hrym speaks, a gentle smile curling upon his lips. “I must speak with you.”

Bylese nods in response before escorting Mr. Hrym to their office.

Watching the two head down the hallway, Caspar picks up the tray of Mr. Hrym's dessert.

_ What the hell was that about?  _ he silently questions, unsure whether he had imagined his landlord's change in demeanor or not.

He ends up packing an extra dessert for Mr. Hrym, hoping that what he saw was just his mind playing tricks on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading! Thank you for loving Caspar, Linhardt, and Ashe!
> 
> I don't know when I'll update next because I don't got a precise schedule and the upcoming dlc will be taking up my free time! aaaaaaa
> 
> To anyone planning on playing the dlc, have fun!!
> 
> o Sothis, pls give me Linhardt and Ashe interactions
> 
> Have a good day! Also happy early vday to anyone who celebrates!
> 
> \----
> 
>  **200630:** If you're wondering what happened to the next couple of chapters, it is because I am currently rewriting them. Around a month ago, I reread what I wrote so far and I honestly haven't been happy with some scenes, so I plan on taking the story in a slightly different direction. I appreciate your understanding.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Linhardt feels uncertain about his feelings. Caspar and Linhardt talk about those feelings. Caspar decides to throw a karaoke party for Ashe, and the three housemates have a wonderful time. Once they arrive home, Ashe gets himself into a predicament with his feelings when he helps Caspar to his room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello,,,,,,,, posting at 1am because haha, what is sense of time,,,, don't know them.
> 
>  **200704:** Just to inform those who have read this chapter before as well as others who are just reading this (hi welcome to HECK), from this chapter (chapter six!) to around chapter nine, some scenes are rewritten. I've had a lot of feelings when I started writing this because again, this was self-indulgent. I really really still hold this ot3 close to my heart, but there were some scenes I've written that I wasn't really happy about, and I wanted to take time to figure out how to rewrite it. My feelings from the start of writing this have changed over time, such as not thinking that a scene is really working or I might have written a character poorly. I've honestly been struggling with continuing this because of personal issues that I won't expand on. I am still not confident about how I'm changing this story, but I do plan on finishing this because I have too many brainworms with this ot3 and want to share them once I get their main story across. 
> 
> I'd like to really thank my betas again for being understanding and helpful during this, as well as those of you who have been encouraging and supportive on Twitter. ;; I really appreciate it.
> 
> Hahaha, now that's over,,,,, um,,, happy reading???
> 
> Warning for alcohol/drunkenness

Linhardt lets out a delicate, cat-like yawn. The rehabilitation center has been busy, buzzling with patients coming and going, reports stacking up and rushing to be finished, and tools needing to be sanitized. Linhardt groans when he looks at the clock on the wall. There is only an hour left until he can go home for the day. Having some free time before his next task, he slides his chair over to Marianne, who is busy sorting through documents. “Oh, Marianne.”

The doctor clears her throat.

“But we're friends, Marianne.”

She gives him a pointed look.

“My apologies. Dr. Edmund,” Linhardt corrects himself, remembering that they're in a strict work environment. He rests his chin at the corner of her desk, watching her scribble on the documents. “Can I go home early? I'm so tired.”

“That's what you get for pushing yourself too much, Linhardt,” Marianne bluntly states, earning a whine from her subordinate. She lets out a sigh before she stacks the documents together and drops them into a file bin. Getting up from her seat, she turns to the schedule on the wall. “Go tell Annette that her break is over so both of you can prepare a bench for the next patient. I need to grab something from the chief so if Lysithea arrives before I get back, just go over a few basic exercises with her.”

“Lysithea?” Linhardt asks, glancing at the schedule. He grimaces when he reads the patient's name. “Can't I sit out from this appointment? She detests me. She won't even talk to me.”

“You have to learn, Dr. Hevring,” Marianne singsongs, her lips curling into a soft smile. “She can be stubborn at first, but I'm sure she'll eventually warm up to you.”

“Tell that to my foot she tried to run over with her wheelchair,” Linhardt grumbles, still feeling a dull ache from the tiny incident. He lets out a sigh, then reluctantly gets up to call for Annette.

In the rehabilitation room, they greet their colleagues and patients on the way to their assigned area. Once they arrive at their table, Linhardt spots Dr. Eisner, who is examining a young patient nearby. While helping Annette clean the area, he takes a few short glances at Dr. Eisner. He observes the way they interact with the patient, watches how they crouch to meet the child's eyes, and listens to the soft tones of their words.

“You did a good job today,” Dr. Eisner tells the patient. They gently poke the patient in the stomach, eliciting a giggle from him. After speaking a few more words to the patient, they pull out a lollipop from their pocket. “Here's a reward that is by no means a scam to get you to a dentist if your teeth break!”

The young patient whines, “Dr. Eisner…”

“Joking! Joking!” Dr. Eisner says as they hand the child the candy.

Overhearing the doctor's little jest, Annette laughs. “Dr. Eisner is amazing with kids, aren't they?”

“I'm amused at the fact that they blatantly told the kid that,” Linhardt comments, feeling a sense of warmth by their interaction. “But I do agree that they're amazing. They clearly know what they're doing while treating their patients, but they're also genuinely kind as well. I desire to be on that level someday.”

“You admire them a lot, don't you?” Annette asks knowingly.

Linhardt blanks out for a moment until he turns to his fellow intern. “Pardon?”

“Dr. Eisner inspires you, right?” Annette clarifies, receiving a stiff nod. She giggles as she continues. “You've been working harder than anyone else ever since Dr. Eisner got here. You look up to them. They're your role model.”

“Are you saying that my feelings are just pure admiration?” Linhardt inquires, the idea making him confused.

“Well, yeah,” Annette responds. “Why else do you work hard for them?”

“I want to bang them.”

Annette spits before she tuts in response. “Linhardt… really?”

“I jest,” Linhardt says, but he stops to consider Annette's words. Now that he thinks about it, his feelings for the doctor were initially stemmed from inspiration. So far, he has learned a lot from Dr. Eisner, finding himself desiring more knowledge about physical therapy and patient care. His infatuation, however, still exists, regardless of the few times he has joked about it. There is a peculiar warmth he feels every time he looks at the doctor, a warmth that always flutters in his chest when he listens to them talking, glances at them working, and sees them smiling. He doesn't know how to differentiate between admiration and attraction. He still doesn't know what to do with these feelings. While a part of him finds it distasteful, he doesn't know if he even wants to pursue a relationship that's more than a superior and their intern.

He just knows he has yet to thank them for being an inspiration.

The sound of wheels squeaking and rolling against the floor pulls Linhardt out from his mind, prompting him to look up to see a young white-haired woman being pushed in a wheelchair. Their eyes meet, but the woman shortly turns away with a scowl on her face.

Linhardt sighs. “Glad to see you too, Lysithea.”

“Hello, Lysithea!” Annette greets, moving out of the way for the nurse to push the patient closer to the table. “How are you today?”

Thanking the nurse before they leave, the patient lets out a grunt. “Could be better.” She looks around the rehabilitation room. “Where is Dr. Edmund?”

“She has to take care of something, but she'll be here soon. Dr. Hevring and I will be taking care of you in the meantime,” Annette informs before turning to Linhardt. “Help me lift her up.”

Linhardt hesitates for a moment, recalling the numerous times he had to carry a fussy Lysithea onto the table, only to get nicked in the chin for it. Her attitude towards him is due to their initial meeting, in which he got carried away by bombarding her with questions about the cause of her paralysis, much to her discomfort. He didn't understand her agitation at first, believing that it was normal to be fascinated by a stunt such as falling from the roof of a toy store and miraculously surviving from it. He got scolded by referring to her accident as a stunt though. Both Marianne and Annette explained to him that a lot of patients deal with trauma from their accidents. Some patients prefer not to talk about their experience, which made him realize that he had been insensitive to some of them, especially to Lysithea. Despite many attempts to apologize for his rude behavior, she still refuses to speak to him, causing him to worry every time they meet.

Thankfully with the presence of Annette, Lysithea begrudgingly complies to allow him to lift her onto the examination table.

While he doesn't expect any forgiveness from her, Linhardt just hopes they will get along eventually.

Outside in the blithering cold, Caspar lightly jogs in place by the sliding doors of the hospital. He snickers to himself while carrying a large box of mini donuts in his arms, which he bought from a popular shop near the university. He wants to surprise Linhardt, seeing as it has been a long while since they walked home together. Now that Ashe is busy with preparing for the upcoming cooking tournament at work, Caspar has been feeling lonely in their house, especially with Little Thiefy taking a catnap as soon as they return from the cafe. Knowing that the three of them haven't spent any time together, he plans on inviting both Ashe and Linhardt to go to karaoke with him.

“Caspar?” he hears a familiar voice, causing him to break into a goofy smile when he sees Linhardt walking out of the doors. His best friend looks stunned for a moment before his expression softens. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you, bud! Let's go home together!” Caspar answers back with a goofy smile. He hands the donut box to him. “Here! I got you these!”

“A dozen mini donuts?” Linhardt asks, his shock making Caspar feel overly giddy inside. Taking the box, Linhardt opens the lid to see a lovely batch of white frosted donuts with red sugar sprinkled on them. He gasps. “Peppermint donuts?! But these should be out of season.” He looks up at Caspar with astonishment. “What's the occasion? It's not my birthday.”

“Does it have to be your birthday for me to give you one of your favorite treats?” Caspar asks as they begin to head to the train station. “You're my best friend! I can give you anything anytime!”

“Point taken. Thank you, Caspar,” Linhardt accepts before immediately stuffing his mouth. He moans in approval. “Oh, I think I just came. This is delicious. I can't believe they still taste fresh.”

“Haha! Glad you're enjoying them,” Caspar laughs, his heart feeling full at the sight of Linhardt smiling while he eats. He then proceeds to ask. “Anyways, are you free this weekend? I was thinking Ashe, you, and I haven't really gotten to hang out together. Are you up for some karaoke?”

Linhardt nearly chokes on his third donut. He takes a napkin from inside the box to wipe his mouth from spit and crumbs. His voice is muffled when he responds. “Karaoke? Are you trying to damage poor Ashe's eardrums by exposing him to my awful singing?”

“What? No! Your singing isn't that awful. It's just funny!” Caspar tries to assure, cackling when he dodges a kick at his leg. “Hey! I'm sure we're going to find a song that suits your pretty voice!”

Caspar thinks he saw a faint blush on Linhardt's face for a mere second, but it shortly disappears when he blinks. “Much like how death metal screaming suits yours because you can't sing a single chord without your voice cracking?” Linhardt says in a teasing manner, closing the donut box before holding it to his chest. Linhardt chuckles when Caspar pouts at him. “I jest. I jest. Anyways, I am up for it. What about Ashe?”

“I'm going to ask him when we get home!” Caspar tells him, laughing happily as both of them arrive at the station.

Once they board the train, Linhardt lets out a sigh of relief that the car is mostly empty. Caspar takes his hand and leads him to a free seat by the door. As both of them sit down, Caspar feels his cheeks turning red when Linhardt lays his head on his shoulder. He turns slightly, chuckling at the tickle from his friend's soft emerald locks against his chin. “Long day?”

Linhardt hums. “Just the usual routine where I work my butt off for Dr. Eisner.”

“Haha, aw,” Caspar coos. “You look up to them that much, huh?”

“Well,” Linhardt pauses for a moment, idly picking at a corner of the donut box. “Annette said that my feelings for Dr. Eisner are pure admiration. While she's not far off, a part of me feels… there's something more than that.”

“What do you mean?” Caspar asks, watching his best friend toying with the box.

“What does 'admire' mean to you?” Linhardt inquires before he adds. “How do you feel about Ashe?”

“Huh?” Caspar replies, confused at the sudden change of topic. “How do I feel about Ashe? Well, I think he's great! He's a really nice guy and also a great cook! I also think he's cute!”

“Would you say that you admire him?”

“Admire him?” Caspar reiterates, earning a hum in response. Musing over the question, he begins to think out loud. “Well, I admire that he works hard! He was bummed about not getting into that one school, but he's still trying his best to find his dream! I'm proud of him! I hope he gets through the tournament and wins that scholarship. That way the three of us can go to school together!”

“Is there anything else you admire about him?”

“Uh,” Caspar drawls, but he couldn't think of a proper answer. “Not that I can think of right now. Why?”

Removing his head from his friend's shoulder, Linhardt sits up. He opens the box of donuts, grabs one, and plops it into his mouth. After chewing and gulping it down, he turns towards Caspar, but his eyes don't meet his. “I think my admiration for Dr. Eisner extends to… feeling attracted to them.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Caspar says in realization, but his heart sinks. It isn't the first time they discussed having feelings for other people since they are close friends, but hearing that Linhardt has eyes for someone else discourages him. He knows that his confession has been long overdue. He _painfully_ knows, but a certain reason keeps holding him back. He lets out a chuckle, hoping it doesn't come out strained. “You mean ‘admire’ like a crush.”

“Is it a crush?” Linhardt inquires, pursing his lips. “I don't know if these feelings are even romantic. It's not like I'm in love with them.”

“Do you get butterflies in your stomach?” Caspar carefully questions, watching as his friend's eyebrows furrow. “You know! Like… Do you get nervous around them? Does your heart want to go _‘boom’_?”

“ _Boom_?”

“Boom!” Caspar exclaims while raising his arms, but he squeaks when one of them smacks into the window. Laughing the dull pain off, he continues to explain. “I mean, if you see someone you like, you get all happy. Something inside of you feels tingly, and your heart feels like it's about to explode! When you see Dr. Eisner, do you physically feel anything at all?”

“A boner.”

Caspar nearly chokes on his spit. Despite getting used to his best friend's innuendos, he still flushes on the spot. “Linhardt, are you for real?”

“I'm joking,” Linhardt reassures as he closes the box. “Being honest, I do feel a little something in my chest when I see them, but I don't plan on pursuing a relationship with them. It will cause issues in the workplace, and I'd rather not deal with that kind of mess. My feelings for the doctor aren't that strong anyway. My only problem is that I don't know what to do with these feelings, so I just hope they'll pass at some point.”

At that, Caspar feels incredibly relieved. As much as he would like to support Linhardt with whatever crush he has, he doesn't know if he can handle seeing his best friend in another relationship. Then again, as much as it pains him, he prefers seeing Linhardt happy rather than himself.

“However,” Linhardt continues, but this time his eyes look up at him. “The physical feelings you described…”

“Yeah?” Caspar responds, staring back at him expectantly.

“Do you have those feelings for anyone right now?”

Taken aback by the question, Caspar coughs as his eyes look away. He stammers. “I-I… I don't know.”

“It sounds like you _do_ ,” Linhardt points out, his tone teasing. “Come on, Caspar. I told you who I like, so it's only fair if you tell me. Of course, you don't have to if you don't want to.”

 _It's you_ , Caspar wants to say. _You're the one who I like_ , he wants to tell him. Caspar has been in love with Linhardt for a long time now. He doesn't exactly recall when his feelings for his best friend started to blossom, but every time he thinks back on it, he is certain it was when they were kids. It was either the time he visited Linhardt at the school's clinic and made him laugh by tripping and falling into the curtains, or the time they read their first book together at the children's library and Caspar's silly mispronunciation of a dinosaur's name sent Linhardt into a fit of giggles.

Absentmindedly looking back at Linhardt, Caspar feels his heart hammering out of his chest. Linhardt has grown so remarkably handsome in the past couple of years. Seeing his flawless pale skin, his deep blue eyes, and his luscious emerald hair, he feels blessed enough to be able to stay by his side. He also can't leave out Linhardt's intelligence, which he always compliments; and as much as he claims not to enjoy it, Caspar wholeheartedly appreciates the praises Linhardt gives him.

“Caspar?” Linhardt's soft voice pulls him out from his daze. “You've been staring at me for a while now.”

“Oh, haha. Uh sorry,” Caspar apologizes, giving his friend a sheepish grin. He suddenly notices the puzzled look on his face. “Something the matter?”

“Caspar…” Linhardt repeats, but his voice is more hushed this time. “The person you like… it wouldn't happen to be-”

Before Caspar can hear his best friend finish his sentence, the train speaker announces their stop. Immediately excited that they have reached closer to home, he gets up from his seat and takes a good stretch. “Alright! We're here!”

Letting out a sigh, Linhardt stands up from his seat, gathers his belongings, and follows Caspar out of the train.

Without a single thought, Caspar offers his hand. “Let's go, Linhardt!”

Linhardt stares at him for a moment before he takes his hand. The tiny smile forming on his lips makes Caspar's chest stir in glee. Feeling the tips of his ears warm, Caspar swings their joined hands as both of them walk home together.

Regardless of whenever it was, Caspar can't deny that he keeps falling in love upon every moment when he sees Linhardt smile.

The weekend has arrived, and it is the night when all three housemates go to a karaoke club. Ashe is in the bathroom getting ready. He was surprised when an overly giddy Caspar invited him to come along with him and Linhardt. He was initially apprehensive due to singing not being his forte, but his wariness extends further to being in the way of their relationship. While he should talk to Linhardt and have them clarify his feelings for Caspar, he has noticed both of them have been cozy with each other. Then again, it might just be due to Caspar's friendly love and somewhat overwhelming affection. He thinks it would be rude to decline anyway, especially since Caspar claims that their little get-together is for congratulating him on being accepted to the Chefs of Ambition Showdown.

“Are you ready yet, Ashe?!” Caspar excitedly asks when he pokes his head into the bathroom. “What's taking so long? You look fine!” His enthusiasm slightly falters. “Unless you need to take a dump or something.”

“Oh, no. I'll be ready in a few minutes,” Ashe chuckles while he begins to wash his hands.

“Haha! Okay!” Caspar replies. “Now I just gotta drag Linhardt out of bed, and we'll be good to go!”

“No need… I'm awake,” a drowsy voice mumbles, followed by a long yawn. Linhardt pops by the doorway, somehow already groomed and presentable enough to go out. Rubbing one of his eyes, he lets out another yawn. “I hope the karaoke club sells decent dessert.”

“All the food and drinks will be on me!” Caspar declares, pumping up his fist with vigor. “Tonight is Ashe's night!”

“I think I'll enjoy myself if you two have fun as well,” Ashe says, all finished with washing up. As the three housemates move to the living area to slip into their coats and shoes, Ashe starts to worry. “Are you sure you want to pay for everything by yourself? The club we're going to is quite expensive.”

“It'll be fine! I got enough!” Caspar reassures, shivering a bit when he opens the front door. After giving a quick goodbye smooch to Little Thiefy resting on his cat tower nearby, he adds. “If we do end up eating and drinking a lot though, I'm sure Linhardt can back me up with some money.”

“I'm broke.”

Caspar stares at them. “Are you fucking for real?!”

“When Hubert helped to release Ashe and me out of temporary jail, I returned the figurine we stole since you don't like the idea of me owing _you-know-who_ anything.”

“You mean the one _you_ stole,” Caspar corrects. “You just dragged Ashe into it!”

“That's beside the point,” Linhardt waves off, following Caspar outside. “Anyways, I was going to keep this as a surprise, but I decided to dabble into my personal savings to order the figurine for Ashe. It should arrive on Monday.”

Ashe nearly drops his keys in the midst of locking up. He turns around, mouth agape when Linhardt smiles. “Linhardt… did you really? Why?”

“Only to support a fellow Magvel fan, of course,” Linhardt answers. “Happy early birthday.”

Feeling the warmth spread on his face, Ashe happily laughs. “Thank you, Linhardt. Although my birthday is another couple of months, I'm touched.”

“Hahaha! Well, I guess if it's for Ashe, then I have no problems!” Caspar concludes before he excitedly jumps down the stairs. “Now let's go!”

Ashe can’t even recall the last time he had this much fun. The moment they all arrive at the karaoke club and enter their designated room, Caspar enthusiastically starts the party by shouting punk rock song lyrics into the microphone. While Caspar's singing is a little off-key, Ashe can't stop himself from watching how charismatic he looks while he dramatically air guitars. When Caspar ends his performance with an explosion on the karaoke screen, Ashe feels like his heart is about to burst. He can't help but think how cool and handsome Caspar looks, especially the charming way he smiles when he gets a decent score of 87 for his performance. 

Ashe suddenly snaps out of his daze when he smells a whiff of fried chicken. He sees the food and drinks on the table while Linhardt indulges himself to some calamari. During Caspar's chaotic screaming, Linhardt was on the club's phone ordering from the menu. While Ashe didn't get to see Linhardt's reaction throughout the performance, the sight of Linhardt downing a glass of some mixed cocktail surprises him, but it shortly makes him feel anxious. He watches as he gets up from the booth seat, receives the microphone from Caspar, and…

Ashe completely zones out the moment Linhardt starts wailing into the mic. While he's had his share of listening to a few friends'... peculiar singing, Linhardt's voice is so unique he feels like he's in a different dimension. He doesn't even know where he is anymore. 

Caspar's hollering interjections and laughter slowly bring him back to his senses. Ashe glances at him, only to get caught off guard when Caspar scoots closer and wraps his arm around him. “Dig in, Ashe! Try this lemonade too! But yeesh, Linhardt ordered a lot though.” 

Ashe chuckles as he helps himself, only to nearly spit out his food when Linhardt dances an attempt of a seductive body wave. The soft ambiance from the ceiling lights and the colorful sparkles from the disco ball somehow makes Linhardt look radiant. Ashe is staring at him longer than he intends to. Despite Linhardt being horrendously tone-deaf, Ashe has to admit that he still looks effortlessly pretty, perhaps pretty to the point he feels enamored. His heart nearly jumps when Linhardt flashes a salacious wink at him, followed by a swift lick at his lips. 

The sight causes him to wonder if the lemonade was spiked.

Once Linhardt's performance has finished, their score results as a 69, which sends Caspar into a fit of cackles. Shortly after, it is Ashe's turn, causing him to swallow at the lump in his throat. After he picks a ballad from the karaoke list, he steps up front. His face starts burning when Caspar roots for him while Linhardt watches with an amused expression on his face. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, getting himself into the mood of the melancholy piano music that starts to play. When he opens his mouth and begins to sing, he allows the melody to carry his voice.

As soon as Ashe finishes singing, he flinches when he opens his eyes to see both Caspar and Linhardt gawking at him with their mouths open. The score on the monitor rolls up to a 99, but the whole room is quiet. Ashe then decides to break the silence, feeling anxious over their reaction. “Um… Was that bad?”

“Bad?” Linhardt repeats before he smiles fondly. “No, Ashe. Your singing was remarkable.”

“You sounded like an angel!” Caspar exclaims, prompting Ashe to squeak when he runs over to tackle him into a hug. “Who knew you had this much talent in you? You're such a cutie!”

“Aw, stop,” Ashe whines, blushing when Caspar snuggles against him.

The three housemates continue to sing and drink for another hour. Despite being a little worried over his expenses, Caspar seems to no longer care once he downs a couple of more drinks. Linhardt ends up being more shameless in the next couple of songs they sing together, causing both Ashe and Caspar to stop him in the midst of stripping off his clothes. 

Once it is getting late, they all decide to call it a night and leave the club. Caspar has gone too intoxicated to even remember the concept of money while Ashe is a little drunk himself, making Linhardt the most sober out of them as he swipes Caspar's wallet from his coat pocket. All Ashe can register on the way home is helping Linhardt drag a blabbering, clingy Caspar up the stairs of their penthouse and fumbling for his keys to get themselves in.

As soon as they enter the house and drop their coats, Linhardt removes Caspar's arm from himself, causing both Caspar and Ashe to tumble over near the couch. “Well, that was a fun night, but I shall leave Caspar to you. I am so sleepy.”

“Good night, Linhardt,” Ashe replies, watching him retreat to his bedroom.

“Good night, Linnie!” Caspar manages to spew out in the midst of the garbled noises he's making. “I love you! I love you so much!”

Standing by the doorway to his room, Linhardt sighs. “Love you too, Caspar. Good night, Ashe.”

“Hahaha! You hear that, Ashe? He says he loves me! He loves me! Wow!” Caspar hollers in a rambunctious manner.

“I'm happy for you,” Ashe tells him, though he feels his heart sink a little at their exchange.

“Aw, Ashe… What's wrong?” Caspar asks as he's being dragged to his room. “I love you too!”

“O-oh! Um,” Ashe stutters, feeling himself sobering up a little at the statement. Unfortunately, he knows those words don't have much meaning in them, especially when Caspar is still drunk. Reaching his room, he carefully places Caspar on the bed. He chuckles when Caspar falls back and curls his legs into his chest, finding it endearing. “Well, thank you for the party, Caspar. I had a lot of fun. Let's hang out again sometime.”

“But Ashe,” Caspar drawls, smacking his lips while he struggles to sit up. “Don't you love me too?”

With his back turned, Ashe freezes for a moment, pressing his lips into a thin line. His heart is pounding against his chest while he struggles to decide whether to answer or not. He is about to open his mouth, but he gasps when he feels himself being pulled down into Caspar's arms. He tries to get up, but he stops midway when he makes eye contact with Caspar. Caspar is staring up at him, blinking with an unreadable expression on his face. He then pouts. “You don't love me, Ashe?”

 _Please don't fucking do this to me_ , Ashe curses to himself. The last thing he wants to do is take advantage of someone drunk, especially Caspar of all people. Even though Linhardt's relationship and feelings with Caspar aren't exactly clear to him, Ashe doesn't want to ruin their friendship over his stupid puppy love. He grits his teeth when he sees Caspar protruding his lips more, his bright blue eyes watery as they continue to stare at him. He sighs in defeat. “I… I do love you, Caspar. I really do, but… it won't be fair to Linhardt and it won't be fair to yo-”

“Can I kiss you?”

“U-u-uh, what?” Ashe stammers, internally freaking out when Caspar pulls him in closer and cups his face. His brain is screaming at him to pull away, but he is unable to trust himself anymore when he starts admiring how handsome Caspar is. Every time Caspar smiles, Ashe feels his heart leap. He often finds himself getting lost into Caspar's light blue eyes. He wants to weave his fingers through his soft blue hair, but he thinks he shouldn't.

After a brief moment of staring intensely into his eyes, Caspar gives him a sad smile. “It’s fine if you don’t want me to,” he says, slowly removing his hands from Ashe’s face. After releasing Ashe, he turns his head away, muttering some garbled words before he speaks clearly. “Sorry.”

Climbing off of Caspar to sit on the bed, Ashe feels his heart sink again. His mind is still a bit of a mess, unsure whether Caspar's intention is purely from his constant affection or something else. He can't deny that he hopes for something of the latter, but he knows better than to act on it. “No… I’m sorry, Caspar. As much as I want to kiss you too, I don't think it would be fair to you and Linhardt.”

“Linhardt and me?” Caspar asks. Ashe finds the puzzled look on his face endearing. “Why's that? What does Linhardt have to do with this?”

Ashe gulps nervously. With Caspar looking at him expectantly, he might as well confess his feelings. He slowly takes a deep breath before he speaks. “It's been a while now, but… I admit I've been having a crush on you.” He looks to see Caspar widening his eyes, the shocked look causing him to grin sheepishly. “I think it may have started when you first moved in, or maybe when we were going over some house rules with Linhardt. Either way, I’ve… fallen for you. I think it's because of how friendly and affectionate you are, but I also find you incredibly attractive. Your optimism is also really contagious. Whenever you cheer me on, something about your encouragement always makes me feel at ease. Your uplifting words make me happy. I think it's why I find myself so drawn to you, but…” He takes another deep breath, but his eyes remain closed. “I talked with Linhardt the other day. He spoke so fondly of you. I admire how you two have been such good friends for a long time, but... I don't want to ruin that. While I know that you two are just close friends, I don't think it's right for me to get in the way of your friendship, especially when he said that they're in lo-” 

Ashe suddenly flinches when he hears a boisterous snore, opening his eyes to see that Caspar has fallen asleep.

Incredibly flabbergasted, he gawks at him in disbelief.

How long has Caspar been listening?

Did he even hear his whole confession?

His ears perk up at the sound of footsteps coming from the hallway, which causes him to panic and bolt out of the room.

He squeaks when he sees Linhardt nearby, but he continues to run off into his room and slams the door. 

He doesn't know why he panicked. He doesn't know why he suddenly feels anxious.

All he knows is that Caspar fell asleep during his confession, worrying if he will even remember a word when he wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ,,,,,,,,,Have a nice day/evening?!?!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashe isn't sure how to bring up his confession with Caspar, so he asks his friends for help. Linhardt attempts to talk to Dr. Eisner about what has been bothering them. Caspar discovers a certain truth about his landlord.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, how are you today?
> 
>  **200710:** Again, this is another rewritten chapter that only has a few slight changes... strangely this went from 6k to 7k words LMAO, but asdfghjkl. Clearly I am still a mess with my writing, but I am trying to improve.
> 
> a b c d e f g, remember to have some snackies when you read!!! or water,, water is good. Stay hydrated!!!

The next morning, Ashe groans while he crawls out of bed. His head is pounding, his throat feels groggy, and his body desperately needs a shower right now. The first thing he does is gather a fresh pair of clothes and head to the bathroom. The moment he sheds his clothes and steps into the bathtub, he lets out a relieved sigh when water pours down on his head. As he starts lathering himself in soap, he starts thinking back to last night's events, grinning at the memory of partying at the karaoke club with both Caspar and Linhardt.

But he suddenly frowns.

Ashe and Linhardt were carrying Caspar on the way home. Once they arrived home, Linhardt retired for the night, so Ashe had to drag Caspar to his room. Caspar was drunkenly slurring his affection for Linhardt, as well as his affection for Ashe. Ashe dropped Caspar onto his bed.

Caspar then asked Ashe if he loves him back.

The events that followed afterwards suddenly come crashing on him, his eyes widening when he recalls what words he had spoken to Caspar.

_“I've fallen for you.”_

Those words were his confession.

His confession of feelings for Caspar.

 _Oh no… Oh no!_ Ashe mentally panics as he rushes to finish showering.

Once he steps out of the bathtub, brushes his teeth, and changes into his clothes, he slowly opens the door. Taking a cautious peek down the hallway, he sucks in his breath when he sees Linhardt already awake and sitting at the countertop with their back turned. He recalls seeing them when he dashed out of Caspar's room last night, which makes him worry about whether or not they heard him spill out his heart to Caspar. _Well, they wouldn't have heard you if you had closed the fucking door_ , he curses to himself. He then takes another quick glance, noticing that Caspar hasn't woken up yet.

“ _Mew?_ ”

Jolting at the sudden sound, Ashe looks down to see Thiefy standing on his hind legs and looking up at him. Letting out a sigh of relief, he puts his finger to his lips and gently shushes him. “Morning, Thiefy. I'll give you your breakfast in just a moment, but we need to be quiet.”

“Why do we need to be quiet?”

Ashe yelps at the sudden voice, prompting Thiefy to hiss at his reaction and run off. He lets out an even louder squeak when he turns to see Caspar, who is yawning while… oddly scratching something with his hand in his pants. Quickly diverting his attention away from Caspar possibly scratching his balls, Ashe feels his heart pounding while his mind is scrambled with thoughts about his confession last night. Noticing the blank expression on his housemate's face, he begins to wonder if Caspar even remembers what he had said last night… or at least whatever he heard before he fell asleep on him. He isn't even sure how to bring it up, especially when Caspar was plastered to the point it wouldn't be surprising if he doesn't recall anything. He doesn't even know how to react if Caspar does remember. Part of him hopes he doesn't, but he isn't sure if he can just forget about that night himself, especially when the memory is heavily weighing on him right now.

“Uh,” Caspar mutters, his voice making Ashe realize that they have been staring at each other. With a sheepish grin, Caspar asks. “Are you done with the bathroom?”

“O-oh, um yes. M-my apologies,” Ashe stutters, hurrying back in to gather his dirty clothes before he runs back out. “It's all yours.”

“Thanks, Ashe!” Caspar says with a laugh until his expression falters. Seeing the concern on his face, Ashe braces himself when Caspar starts to question. “Uh… this is going to come out weird, but last night… Did we… Did I... do anything to you?”

“Huh?!” Ashe blurts out, suddenly confused. He isn't sure what Caspar is remembering, so he carefully asks him. “What do you mean?”

“Well, um…” Caspar drawls for a moment, the tips of his ears turning red while his cheeks are tinted pink. Ashe finds it a little adorable. “I didn't slobber or puke on you, did I?”

Ashe splutters, shaking his head. “Oh gosh, no. Nothing of the sort.” He watches as Caspar sighs of relief, but his own worry is still nagging at him. “Do you not remember anything last night?”

Throwing his hands behind his head, Caspar purses his lips in thought, but he shrugs. “No, not really. My memory is kind of hazy. All I remember was saying 'good night' to Linhardt, and you took me to my room. I think I passed out after that, but thanks for dropping me off! Sorry if I was heavy for ya.” He then looks at Ashe with concern. “Why? Did something happen?”

With Caspar looking at him as if nothing happened, Ashe somehow feels disappointed. Part of him was expecting this to happen. He hoped that Caspar wouldn't remember, but now he doesn't know how to react.

He strangely feels dejected.

“Is everything alright?” Linhardt cuts in, approaching them in the hallway. “I made some hangover soup by the way. It might be too salty for you two, but it does the job.”

Looking up to see them, Ashe suddenly feels anxious when he sees Linhardt's eyebrow raised. He feels awfully scrutinized by their gaze, being reminded of running into them last night. Forcing a smile, he nods. “Yes. Everything is fine, Linhardt. You made soup?”

“I mostly made it from scratch, but you are free to criticize if it tastes bad,” Linhardt says, but their expression turns unreadable when they face Caspar. “Are you okay, Caspar?”

“Huh?” Caspar replies, seeming to blank out for a moment. His mouth then breaks into a goofy grin. “Oh! Yeah! I'm fine! Hahaha! It's soup time! Let me wash up. I bet it'll be tasty!”

Watching Caspar dash into the bathroom, Ashe turns back to Linhardt and smiles nervously. “I actually need to head to practice.” He suddenly flinches when Linhardt looks at him, but this time there is a softer glint in their eyes. Something about their eyes stirs a strange feeling in his chest, but he also feels that they're boring right through him. “I… um… I'll be happy to bring some of the soup with me.”

Linhardt narrows their eyes for a split second before they let out a sigh. They turn their back as they return to the kitchen. “That's fine. Hope it will clear your hangover.”

Ashe chuckles in response, but he feels there is a slightly irritated tone in those words. 

Deciding not to question it, Ashe excuses himself to toss his dirty clothes into the laundry room. After giving Thiefy some breakfast, he packs some of Linhardt's soup. He ends up leaving for Fish Money without another word between them, worrying that Linhardt might have heard his confession and is angry with him.

“Oh no…” Mercedes responds after hearing the whole story. “This must be a difficult situation to be a part of.”

“I'm so sorry, Ashe,” Ingrid tells him. “Is there anything we can do to help you feel at ease?”

Ashe lets out a shaky sigh. He initially ran to Fish Money so he can borrow the kitchen to prepare himself for the upcoming cook-off preliminaries, but instead he's venting out his troubles to his coworkers in the break room. He thanks Annette when she places a small bowl of Linhardt's hangover soup on the table, his head still aching since this morning. “I'm feeling a little better now, Ingrid, but I appreciate you guys for listening.”

“How far did you two go?” Sylvain asks, earning a slap at the back of his head from Ingrid. “Ow! What?!”

“Did he use any of his old fighting moves when he pulled you down?” Felix asks, wincing when he reserves a slap as well. He ignores Sylvain's laughter while rubbing the pain on his head. “It was a serious question.”

Not wanting to indulge them, Ashe focuses on eating the soup. His lips press together due to the strong salty taste, but he continues to eat it. He finds some sort of comfort in it, knowing that Linhardt did their best in making it.

“I understand that this is a tough situation,” Annette begins to speak, taking a seat next to Mercedes. “But I think you should talk to both of them about this.”

“I know,” Ashe groans before he sighs. “It's just… I'm not sure how to bring it up. I don't want to seem like I'm forcing my feelings on Caspar while pushing my anxieties on Linhardt. I don't even know if I can talk to both of them.”

“Well, maybe start with Linhardt,” Annette suggests. “I admit I don't know Caspar that well since I've only met him a few times at the cat cafe, but Linhardt? They seem aloof and a little intimidating most of the time, but I often find them easy to talk to. As for being in love with Caspar, they're usually joking when it comes to those types of things. They often say some things and might not be aware of how off-putting they can be, but it's worth asking them to clarify.” She pauses for a moment, looking hesitant until she continues. “Although, the other day they did tell me they have a thing for Dr. Eisner.”

Sylvain lets out a whistle. “Dr. Eisner? You mean Byleth? Bylese's twin?” Annette nods, prompting his amusement. “Ooh, so this is a love square.”

“Is it really a love square when we don't know if Byleth likes any of the three?” Felix asks. “It's a parallelogram at best. Possibly a rhombus.”

“Oh, Felix,” Sylvain coos, attempting to pat his friend on the shoulder but his hand gets swatted away. “Hey! I'm just telling you a square isn't a rhombus.”

“Well, I know that,” Felix quips, but then he frowns. “Is a square not a rectangle?”

“Can you two argue over geometric shapes somewhere else?” Ingrid cuts them off, letting out an exasperated groan.

“Wait a minute, Annie,” Mercedes speaks. “Byleth works at the hospital you're interning in?”

“Yeah,” Annette answers. “They've been working there for a while now. Why?”

“Oh dear…” Mercedes utters before she lets out a giggle. “He might get upset if this spreads around, but Emile and Byleth have been dating each other for over three years now. In fact, Emile plans to propose to them today.”

“Holy shit?! Are you for real?!” Sylvain exclaims, standing up and knocking his chair over. “Jeritza?! Dating?! _Proposing?!_ ”

“Huh. Well, that's a surprise,” Felix comments. “Byleth can tame some other beast besides Dimitri.”

“Aw, the thought of them together is actually cute!” Annette says, but her excitement suddenly falters. “But ooh, this is a problem. I'm not sure how Linhardt is going to take this, especially when they admire Dr. Eisner a lot.”

“Ashe, did you know about this?” Ingrid questions.

“I knew Mr. Hrym was dating someone, but I didn't expect them to be Byleth,” Ashe informs, but he starts to feel uneasy. He recalls the time when Linhardt told him about their infatuation with the doctor. They stated that they didn't plan on pursuing the relationship, but he is sure that he sensed some kind of affection when they talked about Caspar. Seeing how things happened last night, he's still afraid of them knowing about his confession. He's afraid of potentially breaking their friendship. He's afraid of potentially breaking Linhardt and Caspar's friendship. He's even afraid of ruining his friendship with Caspar.

“Ashe,” Mercedes calls him, her gentle voice pulling him from his thoughts. “You won't know how either of them feel unless you talk to them.”

“But Mercedes-”

“Did Caspar actually brush you off when you talked to him this morning? Did you actually tell him that you confessed to him?” Mercedes asks, prompting Ashe to think back for a moment before he shook his head. “What about Linhardt?”

“Well…” Ashe drawls, pondering deeply. If he has to think logically, Caspar was concerned when he saw him this morning, but he immediately felt sad the moment when Caspar said he forgot about last night. Being honest, a part of him was afraid of Caspar brushing off his confession or even rejecting him, but he can worry when it ever happens. As for Linhardt, they are always hard to read, but they looked a bit unnerved when they spoke this morning. Maybe it was due to their hangover, but they seemed more concerned, especially after he quickly took some of their soup and left home.

Ashe takes another spoonful of the soup, his tongue already becoming used to the saltiness. He smiles fondly, noting to thank Linhardt for taking the time to cook for him. After quickly downing the leftover broth, he lets out a sigh of relief. His headache has long disappeared, and his nerves feel at ease. “Thank you, Mercedes. Thanks, everyone. I'll talk to both of them.”

“Oh, Ashe. Let me give you a hug,” Mercedes says as she comes around the table to envelop him into her arms. Ingrid joins in, followed by Annette and Sylvain. Felix tries to scoot away from the touching moment, but he reluctantly allows himself to get dragged into the group hug by Annette.

“Sorry for the wait. I had to gather some extra ingredients for the practice run,” Dedue speaks as he enters the break room. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Get in here, Dedue!” Sylvain invites him.

Dedue complies, eliciting a bunch of squeals and yells when he effortlessly lifts everyone up into his arms. 

After placing everyone back down, he turns to Ashe. “Are you ready to begin?”

“Yes!” Ashe answers enthusiastically, thanking everyone for the support as they all scuffle into the kitchen to help him practice for the cook-off.

He hopes he can talk to both Linhardt and Caspar soon, as a part of him is worried that the situation might distract him during the tournament.

A gentle breeze passes through the blossom trees while the flowing river trickles over stones. A couple of fish are swimming around in the freshwater, unknowing of their fate to be baited and hooked by fishers who reside along the riverbanks. Linhardt, who has been immersed into the tranquility while fishing, finds themself to be lost in thought.

_Last night after they left Caspar with Ashe, Linhardt retired to their room. They froze for a moment when they heard Caspar babbling out an 'I love you', having short apprehension of its meaning before they passed it off as their best friend being drunk out of his mind. Once they closed the door behind them, they decided to take a dip in the hot tub. They quickly shed their clothes and filled the tub with water. Letting out a sigh after they stepped in and sank into the bubbling water's warmth, they relaxed without a care in their mind._

_Once they had enough, Linhardt pulled the plug to drain the water, stepped out to grab a towel to dry themself off, and grabbed a bathrobe to dress themself in. They left their dirty clothes behind, making a mental note to pick them up later. Their mouth suddenly feeling dry, they headed out of their room to go to the kitchen, grabbing a glass bottle of milk from the fridge and downing it in one go. Feeling absolutely refreshed, they tossed the bottle into the recycling bin and made their way back to their room, but they stopped for a moment to see that the door to Caspar's room was still open. They then remembered that they still had their best friend's wallet, returning to their room and the bathroom to retrieve it from their messy pile of clothes._

_Accidentally fumbling the wallet out of their hands and watching it fall open onto the floor, Linhardt picked it back up, their eyes widening when they spot some old pictures of them and Caspar when they were younger. From the time they were kids to the time of their high school graduation, these pictures have so many memories of their time spent together as friends._

_But why would Caspar keep these photos after so long?_

_Linhardt squeezed the wallet against their chest, their heart beating a little faster than what they're normally used to. The thought of Caspar cherishing memories of them felt a little odd to them, but they don't deny the warmth it gives them._

_After their musing, they walked out and headed for Caspar's room, but they stopped when they heard a murmur. It sounded like Ashe, whose voice was coming from Caspar's room. Thinking that they had already invaded Caspar's privacy, they might as well peek in, only to be taken back by surprise when Ashe ran out. Linhardt noticed how flustered they looked. As to why he was flustered, Linhardt couldn't put their finger on it._

_When their eyes met, Ashe let out a squeak before he scurried off down the hallway and locked himself in his room. Linhardt stood still for a moment, unable to register what had happened until they heard a loud snore. The noise prompted them to quietly tiptoe by the door of Caspar's room and poke their head in to see Caspar fast asleep. Realizing that their best friend isn't covered in his blankets, they strode over to the bed, placed the wallet on the bedside table, and carefully eased Caspar's body to tuck him in. They froze when Caspar stirred in his sleep, watching him smack his lips until he snuggled into the covers. Linhardt caught himself smiling at the sight before they pulled themself away, leaving the room and closing the door behind them._

Linhardt's head begins to play scenarios and past memories, all of them of Caspar and Ashe interacting together while they stood at the side and watched. The sight of Caspar hugging Ashe, the day when they both adopted Thiefy together, the time when he talked to Ashe about Caspar and noticed a certain gloomy look on his face when they teased about being in love with Caspar…

Linhardt knew.

Linhardt knew that Ashe had a crush on Caspar.

But why are they thinking about this?

Why are they suddenly worrying over this?

Linhardt thinks back to the day when they and Caspar were talking about admiration and crushes. They know that Caspar's admiration for Ashe initially started from the days he assisted in Chef Dedue's videos. They recall the goofy smile Caspar had every time Ashe appeared in the videos. It was the same happy expression Caspar had when he was describing how crushes made him feel. They might be reading into this too much, but they also noticed the way Caspar was looking at them with that silly grin of his when they asked if he had those feelings for anyone.

Caspar's smile was so bright and full of warmth.

Those feelings couldn't be for them.

They couldn't be for them.

So why did they suddenly feel ill this morning? Why did they suddenly feel awful when they overheard Ashe and Caspar talk? Why did they feel mildly upset after Ashe brushed them off? Why did they feel dejected when they asked Caspar if he was okay?

It wasn't the first time Caspar had hidden something from them, but the numerous times were small instances when Caspar would break something or get himself into trouble that could easily be resolved.

And there was Ashe. While they understand that the both of them aren't close to talk to each other about everything, the smile and politeness Ashe gave him seemed strained.

Neither Caspar or Ashe wanted to talk to them, but they understand.

Yet why did Linhardt feel sad all of the sudden?

Why from then up to now do they feel disgruntled and anxious?

Why do they suddenly feel that their light was going to fade away from them?

“I hate this feeling,” Linhardt grumbles to themself, staring at the floating bobber connected to their fishing rod. 

“I would hate feeling constipated too if I were you.”

Linhardt jumps at the random voice, turning their head around to see Dr. Eisner in very bizarre fishing attire with a black shirt littered in colorful fish puns that he cannot bring himself to read. They let out a relieved sigh, but remain surprised at the doctor's presence. “Dr. Eisner, what are you doing here?”

“Byleth.”

Linhardt blinks at them. “Dr. Eisner.”

Letting out a sigh of defeat, Dr. Eisner laughs it off. “I'm meeting someone. Mind if I join while I wait?”

“Oh, be my guest,” Linhardt allows, watching as the doctor settles their belongings and takes a comfy spot on the grass next to them.

“Wow, you caught a bunch already,” Dr. Eisner comments, nodding towards a bucket with squirming fish inside. “Do you come here often?”

“I live in the area, so yes,” Linhardt answers, observing the doctor readying their fishing pole. “And you?”

“Oh, I used to live around here, but I'm considering moving back,” Dr. Eisner tells them, but they suddenly let out a gasp when their hook snaps off the rod. “Haha, it broke!”

“Is this actually funny to laugh at?” Linhardt asks, intrigued by their behavior. “You certainly are a strange one.”

“I get that a lot,” Dr. Eisner says with a chuckle, scrummaging through their belongings for another hook. “My father taught me that it's best to laugh away your troubles, even for something as small as this.”

“Does it really help?” Linhardt asks, finding the idea a little odd. “What if you're dealing with something more bothersome? What if those troubles come back?”

“I figure how to resolve them, of course. Once I'm done, I just keep on laughing. It works for me,” Dr. Eisner answers, being focused on attaching their bait. “You sound like you have a lot on your mind though. Do you want to talk about it? I might not have good advice, but I'm a good listener.”

Taken aback by their offer, Linhardt feels hesitant. “Oh, I don't know. I don't want to trouble you with my problems.”

“Talking it out could help you feel less constipated.”

“I am certain that my bowels are fine.”

“I mean emotionally,” Dr. Eisner clarifies, laughing while they watch their bait squirm. “It's fine if you don't want to. I get that sometimes people prefer to deal with their conflicts on their own. Isn't that right, little squirmy wormy?”

Choking back a laugh at the doctor talking to their bait, Linhardt considers for a moment before replying. “Well, I'm willing to try, but I'm sorry if I… hesitate a lot. I admit that I'm not good at dealing with my emotions, let alone talking about them.”

“Understandable,” Dr. Eisner says as they cast their bait into the river. They mimic the sound of a _plop_ when the bait hits the water. “So what's up?”

Linhardt isn't sure where to start, but they vaguely bring up Caspar and Ashe without mentioning their names. They talk about how they and Caspar have been close friends for several years, spluttering when the doctor comments on them being inseparable. They talk about meeting Ashe and getting to know him more, finding that they both share similar interests with each other. They add that they find Ashe endearing to the point they have urges to tease him. 

They then continue talking about how Caspar and Ashe seem to be getting closer. They ramble on about how both of their housemates' closeness is starting to bother them, but they don't know why it bothers them. They're afraid to let these feelings manifest into something more troublesome. They are bound to be unable to bottle them up for long, and the thought of the potential damage it can bring already tires them. They just wish that these negative feelings would go away.

After listening to Linhardt intently, Dr. Eisner speaks. “I think what you're feeling is jealousy, Linhardt.”

“Jealousy?” Linhardt reiterates, their eyes widening in realization. They let out an exasperated sigh. “I don't think I like being jealous.”

“Why's that?”

“I feel like being jealous will cause more problems,” Linhardt explains. “I don't like the idea of being jealous when they're both being good friends to each other. While I admit I do feel curious if there's something more between them, it's not my business to interfere. I don't control them. I'm not an overbearing parent. I'm not dating either of them, so I shouldn't get petty about it because it would potentially ruin our friendship. I hold no ill will towards my housemates anyway.”

“Would you be against them having more than a friendship?” Dr. Eisner questions.

Linhardt purses their lips in thought. If they had to locate the cause of their jealousy, it would be their own fear of losing Caspar. While the thought itself sounds overly dramatic, they feel uncertain about the doctor's inquiry. They and Caspar are still friends. They still live together, and Ashe is just an addition to their lives. The only thing that's been keeping them apart is their schedule. Not Ashe. After all, Caspar still talks to them with every chance he gets, and Linhardt appreciates him for it. 

Yet they can't deny the fear of what would happen if Caspar and Ashe start to date. 

“You really love your friends, don't you, Linhardt?” Dr. Eisner asks them after a moment of silence. They suddenly jolt when their line starts to move. “Oh! It's a bite!”

“Love?” Linhardt repeats, watching the doctor try to reel the fish in. As far as they know, love comes in many different forms. There is platonic love, a love so intimate and full of affection. This love immediately reminds him of Caspar and their long years of friendship, especially with how close they are. Despite them not being quite as close, Linhardt places Ashe under the same type of love. They aren't just mere acquaintances, they like to believe. They are two good friends who share something over similar interests.

Thinking of any other kind of love…

They admit that there's something else lingering when it comes to Caspar, a tiny feeling that can overwhelm them if it grows stronger.

They also feel a peculiar temptation to develop their relationship with Ashe.

But they're afraid to move forward with any of them.

“Talk to them, Linhardt,” Dr. Eisner suggests, but they suddenly gasp when their fishing line snaps, watching the fish swim away with the hook and bait. They erupt into a roar of laughter. “Hahaha! Guess I didn't do a good job on tying that one.”

“I believe your equipment might be the issue. It's mostly covered in rust, and your line is thinning out,” Linhardt points out as they examine the fishing pole. They then return to the previous topic. “But ‘talk to them’? About what?”

“Your feelings,” Dr. Eisner says while they grab some maintenance tools from their belongings. “Tell them what you told me. I'm sure if you get your feelings across, you can work something out together. Even if you don't think you should move beyond your friendship with them, you still love them. You don't want to be constipated until you explode, do you?”

Linhardt sighs as they get up from the ground and begins to pack their things. “I'll consider it.”

“Thanks for the company,” Dr. Eisner says with a chuckle. Their mouth drops open when Linhardt offers them their bucket full of fish, along with extra materials to fix their fishing rod. “What? I can't have these.”

“Fishing is just a hobby for me. I always carry more than I need,” Linhardt tells them, smiling when the doctor accepts the fish and items. “This is also a ‘thank you’.”

“A ‘thank you’?”

Linhardt nods. “It was long overdue from when we first met, but to put it briefly, thank you for helping me deal with my emotional constipation. I have been learning a lot from you, and I look forward to learning more in the future.” The doctor laughs in response, causing Linhardt to let out a chortle as well. Once they finish packing their things, they bid the doctor goodbye.

As they make their way back home from the river, Linhardt thinks back to their conversation with Dr. Eisner.

_“Tell them what you told me. I'm sure if you get your feelings across, you can work something out together. Even if you don't think you should move beyond your friendship with them, you still love them.”_

Finding their resolve, Linhardt smiles as if a burden of worries has been lifted off their shoulders.

They hope they can speak with Caspar and Ashe soon.

Unfortunately, Caspar has been avoiding both Linhardt and Ashe since that morning.

The morning when he woke up with his heart fluttering and his stomach doing the thing with butterflies. The morning when he woke up from an incredibly pleasant dream. The morning when he found out that part of his dream was mostly real.

And that dream was about Ashe.

Ashe confessed to him.

And Caspar can't stop thinking about it.

Especially when Ashe didn't speak of his confession that morning.

At first, Caspar didn't understand why Ashe stayed quiet about his feelings. He was certain that both of them were still drunk when they got home, but he doesn't recall anything that happened after the karaoke party. All he vividly remembers is dreaming about telling Linhardt he loves him, Linhardt telling him that he loves him back, and being so overcome with happiness.

But then he noticed Ashe. 

Whenever Ashe was smiling, Caspar sensed that it was very meek or forced. Ashe's smile never quite reached his eyes, not since the days he has seen him in Chef Dedue's cooking videos. The brightness of Ashe's smile was what drew him to Ashe in the first place. Caspar hoped that some hugs and affection would make that smile wider again, but he felt that he might have been too much for Ashe, noting how uneasy he seemed whenever he attempted to shower him with love.

So when he threw that karaoke party for Ashe, he snuck glances in between their turns of singing. Caspar felt his heart pounding the moment he saw Ashe beaming. It was the same kind of feeling in his chest whenever he looks at Linhardt. His heart was beating when he heard Ashe laugh. His heart was beating when he listened to Ashe sing.

His heart was about to burst when he saw Ashe smiling radiantly. 

So in that moment when he thought he was still dreaming, Caspar told Ashe that he loves him, but he was scared. Whenever he would tell Linhardt that he loves him, Linhardt would accept his affection, probably out of reluctance from being his best friend while being unaware of Caspar's real meaning of love for them. 

Yet with Ashe, he seemed hesitant. Maybe uncomfortable. Caspar was afraid that he might have turned Ashe away with his overwhelming affection.

So when he asked Ashe if he loved him in return, he was stunned the moment when Ashe said “yes”. Ashe loves him. Ashe loves him back.

That was the point when he couldn't control his impulses. 

He wanted to kiss Ashe so badly.

He just didn't expect that Ashe would return his feelings. 

He still doesn't believe that his confession was real.

Caspar has been conflicted ever since he realized that it all wasn't a dream. He should have apologized for passing out in the middle of Ashe's confession because it was an important moment for him. It was an important moment for both of them. While there were past instances of him brushing off people confessing to him, Caspar can't help but feel horrible. Seeing Ashe's smile not reaching his eyes that morning, it somehow hurt him. Whether it was because it felt like Ashe wanted to forget the whole thing or because he regretted it, Caspar didn't like it. He actually still doesn't like it.

He doesn't like seeing Ashe sad.

And he doesn't like being the cause of it.

A part of him wants to apologize to Linhardt too, but for what? It isn't like they are dating because they obviously aren't, but he noticed the disappointment on his best friend's face when he pretended that everything was okay. Caspar just panicked. While he usually goes to Linhardt and talks to them about the trouble he gets in, he just can't tell them that he has been in love with Ashe while he has been in love with Linhardt. Falling in love with two people sounds ridiculous enough. 

Caspar just doesn't know what to do about it.

During the rest of the week, all three housemates have been occupied by their individual schedules. With Caspar having the most free time out of all of them, he's been trying to figure out how to approach his dilemma with Ashe and Linhardt, but he ends up squawking and running off the moment one of them is nearby.

“Ah, I'm such a coward!” Caspar whines before screaming into his pillow. He lifts up his head when he hears scattered footsteps entering his room, being greeted by Thiefy meowing at him. “Little Thiefy… what do I do?”

The cat responds with another mewl before jumping on the bed.

“I can't just tell them that I'm in love with both of them! They'll think I'm weird.”

The cat pats him on the back.

“Haha! That tickles! I don't know if you can even understand me, but thanks!” Caspar laughs until both of them suddenly jolt at a loud boom coming from outside. Thiefy shrieks and runs out of the room while Caspar scrambles up from his bed and takes a look out the window.

He sees Mr. Hrym tossing a bunch of junk and bobbles into a giant dumpster, along with a couple of uniformed men carrying furniture to the first floor of the penthouse. Suddenly curious with excitement, he dashes out his room, puts on his shoes, and heads out of the house.

Sliding down the stair handrail and landing safely on the ground, Caspar looks up and chokes on his spit when he sees a moving van in the driveway. Mr. Hrym is running back and forth in between his house and the dumpster, seeming to get rid of things from his house while the movers are carrying stuff in. Once Mr. Hrym walks towards the patio area to grab a towel to wipe his sweat, Caspar approaches him. “Hey, Mr. Hrym! What's going on? Is someone moving in?” He suddenly notices something sparkle on Mr. Hrym's ring finger, his eyes widening when he sees a silver band embedded with blue topaz jewels in it. “Wait! Wait! Wait! No way! Did they-”

“Silence, Bergliez,” Mr. Hrym cuts him off, treading back into his home.

“Oh hey! You finally got my name right!” Caspar says with a chuckle, following the landlord but he stops at the doorway. “Do you need any help? I'm good at lifting things!”

“No.”

“Oh! Uh, that's okay then!” Caspar reassures, stepping out of the way as Mr. Hrym carries a big box of sports equipment. “Whoa! Hey! Are you throwing these out? They still look in good condition!”

Placing the box down on the ground, Mr. Hrym gives the items a look over before he turns to Caspar. “Do you care for them?”

“Are you offering?”

“Feel free,” Mr. Hrym insists before excusing himself back to cleaning the house.

“Haha score!” Caspar cheers, thanking his landlord before he rummages through the box. There is a soccer ball, some tennis rackets, ping pong paddles, and a pair of mini dumbbells. Something that piqued Caspar's interest the most is a pair of boxing gloves, buried under a bunch of trophies and awards. A few of the awards are titled under MMA tournaments, which brings him surprise. He didn't expect to find out that Mr. Hrym used to be an MMA fighter, but something in the back of his mind tells him that he knew all along. All of the sudden…

Caspar feels cold.

Pulling out something dark and metallic from the bottom of the box, he finds a mask. The mask has two horns and is modeled similarly like a skull, all with sharp fangs and hollowed eyes. This mask has frequently appeared in his nightmares, a mask that has been symbolic of death. It is a mask that symbolized the end of his fighting career. To think that he would see something like this again...

“Where did you find that?”

Caspar swallows the lump in his throat. While he hears Mr. Hrym's voice, something about his tone sounds more callous and otherworldly. He slowly looks up, only to fall on his butt when he sees Mr. Hrym shadowing over him. His face remains solemn, but his eyes are piercing with a menacing stare. 

“Bergliez,” Mr. Hrym speaks again, crossing his arms against his chest.

“U-um yeah?” Caspar stutters, awfully sweating bullets by his landlord's gaze. Mr. Hrym sticks out his hand, silently requesting for the mask. Caspar nervously complies by giving it to him with shaky hands. Once he drops the mask into his landlord's hands…

Mr. Hrym swiftly tosses it into the dumpster.

“What in Narcian's puffy pantaloonies?!” Caspar yells out of surprise, hearing the mask go _clunk_ within the giant trash container. “Why'd you toss that? Isn't it yours?”

Mr. Hrym huffs out of his nose before he speaks. “Do you fear me?”

“Huh?” Caspar responds, confused. He doesn't feel cold anymore. The intimidating air around Mr. Hrym has disappeared, but his voice remains sinister and dark. Looking up to see his landlord still looming over him, he blinks. “Uh, I don't know. I mean, you can be scary sometimes? Like a few seconds ago, but…” His eyes begin to twinkle in excitement. “You looked so cool when you tossed that mask!”

It is Mr. Hrym's turn to be confused, his serious expression dropping to befuddlement. “...What?”

“Did you used to play rugby or something? Baseball?” Caspar asks, getting up from the ground and dusting himself off. He returns his attention back to the box, scrummaging through it until he takes out the soccer ball from earlier. “Can you throw again?”

Mr. Hrym's eyebrows knit together. “Are you mocking me?”

“What? No!” Caspar says, tossing the ball up into the air and catching it. “You did look really cool!”

Mr. Hrym lets out a heavy sigh. “Do you really not know who I am?”

Caspar stops when he notices Mr. Hrym's exasperated look. “You're my landlord!”

“Besides your landlord…”

“Jeritza?”

“Apart from my name…”

“Uh…” Caspar thinks for a moment. He isn't exactly sure why his landlord is fixated on him knowing his identity. His mind scrambles for the reason until he thinks back to the mask he found under the trophies. He glances down at one of the awards sticking out from the box, reading the name _Emile von Bartels_. The name sounds awfully familiar, prompting him to try to recollect where he heard the name.

It suddenly clicks into place.

“You're…”

“Yes?”

“You're…”

“Yes? Out with it.”

“You're the Bloodstained Demon! Holy shit!” Caspar exclaims, bursting into laughter out of excitement and awe. “I was a big fan of yours when I was in high school! You were unstoppable! You literally won every tournament for five years! You suddenly disappeared afterwards though. What happened? Did you retire without telling anyone? Did you get a permanent injury like I did? Or...” He then notices the pained expression on his landlord's face, which makes him worried. “Oh, sorry! Uh, it looks like you don't want to talk about it. Is that why you're throwing these awards away?”

“Yes…”

“Can I ask why?”

Mr. Hrym gives him a pointed look. “Do you not remember?”

“Remember what?”

Mr. Hrym sighs again, closing his eyes as he exhales. “I am the Death Knight.”

“Haha what?” Caspar replies with a chuckle. He then thinks of the mask from earlier. “Oh! You mean you're the Death Knight's fan?”

“NO,” Mr. Hrym's voice roars throughout the neighborhood, causing nearby birds to fly off while the movers run to hide in the moving van. He begins to seethe in anger, clutching his head with one hand while the other points towards Caspar's shoulder. “I AM THE DEATH KNIGHT. I WAS THE ONE WHO HAS HARMED YOU.”

Seeing his landlord's sudden outburst makes Caspar feel uneasy, but the words that were spoken begin to ring in his head.

_“I am the Death Knight.”_

_“I was the one who harmed you.”_

Caspar subconsciously touches his right shoulder, his fingers curling as he replays the haunting memory of being crushed by the mysterious masked fighter known as the Death Knight. 

Anger.

Resentment.

Despair.

All those feelings he had kept hidden for so long have come flooding back.

Not daring to meet Mr. Hrym's eyes, Caspar excuses himself as he makes his way back to the stairs.

But he stops for a moment and turns around.

Only to be taken aback when Mr. Hrym looks at him with remorse.

At that, Caspar asks him. “Why did you do it?”

Mr. Hrym continues to stare at him. “I was ordered to.”

“By that rich guy?”

“Yes.”

Caspar hesitates for a moment before he asks another question. “Did you want to do it?”

Mr. Hrym doesn't give an exact answer. Instead, he turns his back to him, waving the movers away before he speaks in an ominous tone.

“If you desire the truth, work for it. Follow the passion that you still have within that will of yours. Until you are strong enough for me to acknowledge you, I will not speak of this again.”

After Mr. Hrym heads back into his home, Caspar takes a step, but immediately stops himself from following his landlord. Having his question met without an answer, he comes to a conclusion.

He is still upset over the Death Knight ending his fighting career.

However, he doesn't believe that Mr. Hrym is a bad guy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you,,,,,, for reading,,,,,, Have a nice day/evening!!! 
> 
> or else
> 
> stinky twitter plug even though I don't really do much other than word vomit about Caspar and sometimes accidentally horny tweet about Hubert before deleting it: [myrmcheck](https://twitter.com/myrmcheck)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caspar meets Felix and decides to make his return to fighting. Linhardt learns something about his landlord and Dr. Eisner. Ashe participates on the first day of the cooking tournament.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooooo... How are you?
> 
>  **200718:** This is another chapter rewrite, but with very minor changes so for those who have already read this chapter,,, you don't necessarily have to unless you want to. keakteatho. Again, thank you to my betas and for everyone who's been understanding and patient with me. ;;
> 
> Content warning for mild violence and food.

Business has been slow at the cat cafe in the late afternoon. Most of the workers are already gone, but Caspar decides to stick around to assist Bylese with cleaning up. He can't help but feel distracted though, especially since he found out about Mr. Hrym being the Death Knight. Caspar was left without an answer to whether Mr. Hrym had an actual purpose to end his fighting career or if he was just following orders. He tried to do some research on his landlord, but any records of an “Emile von Bartels” or the Bloodstained Demon somehow didn't exist. It was as if they weren't real. He even contacted his former coach Catherine, who moved to Dagda with her wife a couple of months after the incident, but she had no clue about Emile's whereabouts…

Other than a rumor about the five-year champion being convicted of murder.

“Caspar?” Bylese's voice snaps him out from his thoughts. He turns to see the cafe owner giving him a look of concern. They ask him, “Is everything alright? I think you put too much litter there.”

Caspar looks down to see an overfilled litterbox, gasping when he realizes his mistake. He laughs out of embarrassment. “Hahaha! Whoops! Sorry about that.”

“Do you need a break? You can go take one if you want,” Bylese offers, smiling softly. Lifting their wrist, they glance at their watch. “Actually, we have a few special guests who reserved the cafe coming over soon. Can you buy some supplies from the convenience store for me?”

“Oh! Sure! You can count on me, Bylese!” Caspar accepts cheerfully. He then turns to Thiefy and lets out a choked gasp when he sees the cat juggling some cat toys while the other cats watch. “Hahaha! Wow! You're amazing, Little Thiefy!” He gives his cat a round of applause, wearing a goofy grin on his face when the other cats meow in delight. “Seems like you're finally getting along with everyone here! Anyway, I'll be right back, okay?”

Smoothly catching all the toys with his front legs, Thiefy responds with a mew.

Giving his cat a quick pat on the head, Caspar leaves the cafe with a list of supplies Bylese wrote for him and walks to the convenience store.

Upon reaching the store, Caspar notices a group of men fighting by the entrance. Anger suddenly boils in his chest when they seem to be targeting one guy in particular, but he widens his eyes upon seeing a familiar man with dark blue hair tied in a messy ponytail. _Oh no! Ashe's friend is in trouble!_ he exclaims in his mind while he watches the man knock out two guys with a high jump kick to their faces. 

Seeing the other men gang up on him, Caspar feels an adrenaline rush as he runs over to assist him. “Hey, sushi guy! Need some help?”

“You…” Ashe's friend utters, dodging a punch before he retaliates with a tug on the arm to flip his assailant over. “You sure you're in the condition to fight?”

“I'm always in good condition to fight!” Caspar answers before he ducks from a swing coming from a man who is twice as his size. “Haha! You missed!” He lets himself fall backwards and pushes his weight on his hands. He grits his teeth due to the strain on his right shoulder before raising both of his feet for a pistol kick to the man's solar plexus. 

Once the large man is down, Caspar takes care of the next assailants with a swift punch and a chokehold. After knocking them out, he notices a large shadow coming from behind him, quickly turning around just to see his surprise attacker being pulled back and getting stomped in the face by Ashe's friend. It was all so quick he started to wonder if Mr. Sushi Guy literally flew to reach the guy's head. Watching as the last man of the group falls down, he quickly checks to see the whole gang out cold. “Haha, wow! That takes care of them.” He smiles at the sushi chef, who is calmly dusting his hands off from the fight. “Thanks for saving me there! I owe ya one, sushi guy!”

“I should be thanking you instead,” Ashe's friend says with a small grin. “The name's Felix. You're Caspar, right? Also known as the Hotheaded Lad?”

“Holy shit! You've heard of me?!” Caspar asks, surprised.

“I've watched your matches back then. Looks like you still got your skills,” Felix mentions before he frowns. “I did notice you wince when you put pressure on your hands earlier though. Are you hurt anywhere?”

Stretching both of his arms before carefully rolling his right shoulder, Caspar doesn't feel any pain, but he still feels slight discomfort. He decides to shrug it off. “Eh, I'm alright. How about you? Why did these guys attack you?”

Felix opens his mouth until the sliding doors of the convenience store open. A miraculously tall blond man with disheveled hair and a medical eyepatch covering his right eye steps out with a large bag of food. He turns to Felix excitedly. “Felix! You'll never guess what was on sale! I bought plenty of meat just for…” He pauses when he notices unconscious men on the ground. His excitement fades into anger, but the expression lasts for a mere second until he huffs out an airy laugh. “Seems like you've been busy. Sorry for taking too long.” He then notices Caspar, who has been staring at him with his mouth agape. “Who's this? A friend of yours? You do look awfully familiar though.”

“I-I-I…” Caspar stutters, unable to believe who he is looking at right now. “You-you-you're…”

“This is Caspar, one of Ashe's housemates,” Felix introduces him. “He's also the Hotheaded Lad.”

“Oh, that's right!” the blond man remembers before he bows his head. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Caspar. I'm Dimitri, but I'm sure you already know who I am.”

“You're the Tempest King!” Caspar finally blurts out, still frozen from shock. “You're actually the Tempest King!”

“Hahaha! See, Felix? He knows who I am!” Dimitri laughs.

“Shut up, boar. Of course he would know you,” Felix groans. He returns his attention back to Caspar. “Anyway, these guys are just a bunch of losers always trying to challenge Dimitri, which is futile because there's no one in Fódlan who can defeat him. I'm just his bodyguard.”

“Oh, Felix. You pretty much forced yourself to be my bodyguard because you wouldn't stop worrying about-”

“I am just his bodyguard,” Felix reiterates, glaring daggers at Dimitri.

“Haha! Well, I can tell you two are really great friends,” Caspar responds. He pulls out his phone to check the time, only to bite his tongue. “Aw, drats! I still need to buy some stuff for my boss!”

“You work at the cat cafe, correct?” Felix asks, earning a nod. “We're actually on our way there. We're the ones who made reservations.”

“Oh! Do you need any assistance, Caspar?” Dimitri offers. “Bylese and I go way back, so I'll be happy to help with carrying anything.”

“Wow, sure! That would be great!” Caspar accepts, and the three of them head inside the store.

Upon arriving back at the cat cafe, Caspar witnesses a heartwarming reunion between Dimitri and Bylese as they hug and share a joke or two. Once they finish preparing everything for the reservation of what seems to be a “Welcome Back” party for Dimitri, a few more guests appear, including workers Caspar recognizes from Fish Money. Caspar quietly sits away from the reunion, being on standby in case anyone needs more food or directions to the restrooms. He was initially nervous about Ashe showing up for the party, but a blonde woman named Ingrid told him that Ashe is busy practicing for the cooking tournament. While a part of him feels relieved that he doesn't have to face Ashe at work, Caspar also feels regretful over avoiding him and Linhardt. He still hasn't talked to them, especially when both of them have tried approaching him numerous times.

“ _Meow_.”

“Oh. Hey, Little Thiefy!” Caspar greets, laughing when the cat jumps onto his lap. “Aw… Is it a little noisy for you?”

“Is that your cat?” Felix asks when he approaches. “Noticed him walking on his hind legs earlier. He's a peculiar creature.”

“Haha, yep!” Caspar confirms. “Ashe and I adopted him together after chasing him around. He used to steal food from here a lot, but I think he's been a lonely little guy.”

“So I've heard,” Felix says, pulling out a chair for himself to sit down. “Anyways, I've been meaning to ask you something. It's related to the fight earlier.”

“Yeah?”

“Your shoulder,” Felix mentions, eyeing it with apprehension. “Has it not completely healed?”

“Oh,” Caspar replies, smiling sheepishly. “So you know, huh?”

“It may not have been in news headlines, but everyone in the fighting world knows,” Felix tells him. “Have you seen a physical therapist?”

“Well, yeah. Dr. Eisner,” Caspar says. “But since I'm a foreigner, I had to be transferred to a different hospital at the time, so I couldn't see them for long. The therapist I've seen after couldn't do a lot since there were no results, so I've been stuck with discomfort in my shoulder for a while now. It was recommended not to fight anymore too.”

“Unfortunate,” Felix simply comments. “But you seemed like you had fun fighting those men earlier. Do you ever want to go back and fight again?”

“I…” Caspar pauses for a moment. Being honest with himself, he really wants to go back to participating in MMA tournaments. He strongly desires to go back into the ring and feel the thrill of a fight. He wants to return to fighting, but he feels there will be problems if he makes a comeback. His right shoulder injury is his well-known weakness. Mr. Hrym is the Death Knight and the end of his career. While his studies in athletic training are going alright, he honestly hasn't been putting a lot of heart into it. He also doesn't want to make Linhardt cry with the chances of getting hurt again.

The day he saw Linhardt cry after his surgery still haunts him. Part of him was happy to know that those tears were for him.

But another part of him hated it.

He hated being the cause of those tears.

After briefly mentioning those things to Felix, Caspar heavily sighs. “I know what I want. I just don't know if I should risk it.”

“If you didn't have any of those issues, would you still want to come back?”

“Oh, you bet I would!” Caspar cheerfully answers, but his expression falters to worry. “But I don't think Linhardt would like it if I went back to fighting. While I'm still a little upset about Mr. Hrym being the Death Knight, I think he feels sorry about hurting me back then too. He did say he was remorseful after all.”

“Not to be rude, but,” Felix interjects. “Do they control your life?”

“Uh, no?” Caspar replies, suddenly confused. “Of course they don't.”

“Do you really want to return to fighting?” 

“Fuck yeah?!” Caspar exclaims. “You can keep asking me, but my answer will always be ‘yes’.”

“Then come back,” Felix says, turning his head away. “I'll help you with training, but before you consider training with me, I urge you to have Byleth- I mean Dr. Eisner- to check your shoulder again.”

“Wait,” Caspar responds, trying to register what Felix just said. The offer then dawns on him, causing him to gawk at Felix dumbfoundedly. “What?! But… my-”

“You can focus on moves that don't require you to put pressure on your shoulder. You can also work on defense to avoid your shoulder from getting targeted,” Felix suggests. “As for Linhardt, if he's your friend, talk to him. Try to ease his worries. I'm not an official fighter since I don't care about fame and all that business, but I have someone who always worries too much whenever I train or hang with Dimitri. Unfortunately, Jeritza is someone who I can't help with, but he’s not as bad as he makes himself out to be.”

“Oh! Um, okay!” Caspar notes, feeling a little bit overwhelmed, but he suddenly feels excited. “Thanks, Felix! You're a really nice guy!”

Felix lets out a grunt. “Don't mention it.”

Pumped with anticipation, Caspar takes out his phone to find Dr. Eisner's contact info, but he suddenly receives a text notification.

From Ashe.

_um… hey, Caspar! just want to let you know dinner is in the fridge in case you haven't eaten… I'm still practicing for the cooking tournament tomorrow, so I won't be home until late_

_also um… whenever you're free, can we talk?_

Another text notification pops up, somehow timely enough to be from Linhardt.

_Caspar. I'm aware you have been avoiding me, but if you ever want to talk, just know I'm here for you._

Caspar clutches his phone. Aside from talking to Linhardt, he knows he has to talk to Ashe too. He knows he needs to talk to both of them about the other night, about his fighting comeback…

And about his feelings.

But for now, he plans on calling Dr. Eisner first.

It is another day at the hospital, and Linhardt finds himself to be less tired than usual after a few hours into work. His body may have adapted to the arduous effort he has put in for Dr. Eisner for a while, but today he has never felt so light and relaxed. Then again, it is probably due to him reverting back to his old habits, his effort doubling down and worrying his superiors and colleagues. Marianne has asked him if something was wrong, but he feels relatively fine. 

Annette assumed that he was disappointed over not receiving any monthly recommendation cards from patients he took care of, but her concern for him was more perplexing the moment she asked him if he needed to talk about anything. Linhardt never thought much of not receiving any patient recommendations since his internship began, but he told Annette that he appreciated her thoughts, which somehow shocked her much to his amusement. While he never expects to make any lasting impression on patients, he still tries to be more empathetic towards them.

After finishing a bedside therapy session with a patient, Linhardt excuses himself to his lunch break. He takes the chance of treating himself to two cups of ice cream added to his meal from the hospital's cafeteria. The tables are a little too crowded for his liking, so he decides to eat outside. With the sun shining and a gentle wind breezing through his hair, he searches for a place to sit, but most of the benches are occupied by other staff and patients.

Linhardt then spots Lysithea, who is carefully easing herself onto a bench from her wheelchair. He quickly rushes over, being careful not to drop his lunch tray of food, but stops when Lysithea manages to seat herself safely. She looks up at him, the glint in her eyes sharpening into a glare before she turns away. 

Letting out a sigh, Linhardt begins to speak. “Hello, Lysithea.” She grunts in response, which he immediately dismisses. “There aren't any other places for me to sit at the moment, so mind if I join you?” She puffs her cheeks up in annoyance, causing him to hold back a grin at the adorable expression before she scoots over. He takes the invitation to sit down next to her. “Thank you, Lysithea.” With the tray on his lap, he takes out his eating utensils and starts to dig in.

Silence begins between them until Linhardt catches a glimpse towards his food from Lysithea, who quickly looks away the moment he sees her. He carefully shifts his attention away, but side eyes the moment she looks back. Her gaze is fixed towards the cups of ice cream he had gotten for himself. Seeing the hungry glint in her eyes, he feels reluctant to offer one of the cups to her. “Have you eaten yet, Lysithea? Would you like some ice cream?”

Her eyes widen for a moment before she immediately turns away. She stammers, “N-no, thank you! I… I already had lunch! Wh-what makes you think I-I would want any?”

“You were obviously eyeing it,” Linhardt says before he grabs another spoon. “Luckily for you, I brought two spoons, mainly one for lunch and another for dessert, but I can share.” He dangles the cup near her face, holding back his amusement when she puffs up her cheeks again. “It's peach-flavored.”

“Ugh, don't tempt me like that,” Lysithea groans, quickly snatching the cup and spoon from his hand. Peeling the lid off and scooping up the treat, she plops the spoon into her mouth. She lets out a joyful, delighted squeal before hacking herself back into her composure. Grumpiness adorns her face when a napkin is handed to her. She reluctantly accepts it before wiping the corners of her mouth.

Linhardt then hears her mumble, but he doesn't catch the words in the midst of munching on his food. He gulps it down before asking. “Pardon? Did you say something?”

“I am not repeating myself,” Lysithea says. After finishing off the last few scoops of ice cream, she hands the empty cup and spoon back to him. 

Amazed at how quickly she devoured the dessert, Linhardt comments. “For someone who initially denied some ice cream, you sure ate it under a minute.”

“Ugh. Can you not?” Lysithea groans again, crossing her arms.

“I was actually exaggerating, but I apologize,” Linhardt responds, noting her vexation.

“Well, thank you for the ice cream,” Lysithea speaks, turning away again with a pout. “I needed it.”

Hearing the sad tone in her words, Linhardt contemplates for a response, not wanting to offend her alike numerous times before. Knowing that he will continue seeing her at the rehabilitation room and assisting with her therapy, he feels the need to build good rapport with her, but his trouble with showing empathy still remains. He tries to think back on the interactions Dr. Eisner and Marianne had with their patients, but he is fully aware that observing them isn't enough. He needs more practice while he continues to engage with patients, but he still feels that he's awfully lacking when it comes to Lysithea.

He suddenly recalls the day he talked to Ashe about his reasons for studying physical therapy, remembering the words he said when he told him he lacked empathy.

_“I don't think you lack empathy, Linhardt. In fact, far from it. You're clearly concerned about the patients you work with, but you're still willing to learn how to show you care.”_

“Why... are you smiling like that?”

Linhardt jolts at the voice, realizing that he was spacing out. He turns to see Lysithea looking at him with disgust. “I'm sorry. Was I smiling?”

“It was nauseating to look at,” Lysithea points out before letting out an exasperated sigh. “I don't enjoy asking you of all people for this, but can you help me get back into my wheelchair? I need to go back to my room.”

“Oh, of course,” Linhardt complies, setting his food aside to assist her. As he carefully lifts her from the bench and gently places her into her wheelchair, he asks her if she needs him to accompany her back to her room, but she immediately rejects his offer. Nodding in understanding, he waves goodbye to her, but hesitates for a moment until he calls out to her. “Lysithea!”

She turns her head around.

“I know I may not be the best person you would trust to take care of you, but,” Linhardt says, prompting her to turn her wheelchair around to face him. “If you ever need to talk or just have me treat you to ice cream again, let me know. I'm willing to listen.”

Lysithea heaves out another sigh before a light smile appears on her face. “I prefer the latter, but…” She turns back towards him before she mutters. “Thank you.”

Watching her roll back inside the hospital, Linhardt grins to himself.

Until he suddenly spots a familiar man with light blue hair jogging out of the building.

 _Caspar?_ he quickly identifies the man, watching him leave down the sidewalk. _What was he doing here?_

Gathering his lunch tray, Linhardt heads back into the building. After returning his empty tray and some utensils to the cafeteria, he heads back to the physical therapy department with his ice cream and spoon in hand. Walking through the waiting area to get to the office, he widens his eyes when he sees Mr. Hrym standing by the doorway of the rehabilitation room. Carrying what seems to be a wrapped lunchbox, his landlord notices his presence before he nods his head in greeting. “Hevring.”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Hrym,” Linhardt greets in return. “What are you doing here?”

“I had an appointment with my psychiatrist earlier,” Mr. Hrym tells him, the info piquing his interest. “But now I am here waiting for someone.”

“Oh, are they a patient?” Linhardt inquires, stepping aside when a patient and their guardian exit the rehabilitation room. 

“No,” Mr. Hrym replies, but the solemn expression on his face fades into something brighter when Dr. Eisner appears by the doorway. “My Sweet...”

“Oh! Emile,” Dr. Eisner greets him with a surprised look on their face. “What brings you here?”

“You forgot your lunch.”

“Oh, haha! Silly me!” Dr. Eisner laughs as they accept the lunchbox. “Thank you for bringing it to me.”

Linhardt quietly stands there as he watches the doctor give a peck on his landlord's cheek. His mind goes blank when he observes both of them looking at each other with soft, warm gazes. He is a little stunned to see more than contentment on his landlord's face, but he is even more surprised when he notices shining silver bands on both of their fingers.

“Linhardt, this is Emile, my fiancé,” Dr. Eisner introduces. “And Emile, this is-”

“I am already acquainted with Hevring,” Mr. Hrym interjects. “They are one of the second-floor tenants with Ubert and Bergliez.”

“Oh!” Dr. Eisner responds, beaming happily. “Then I guess we're neighbors now, Linhardt!”

“Neighbors?” Linhardt repeats before sudden realization hits him. It occurs to him that the person Dr. Eisner was meeting at the river the other day was Mr. Hrym. Along with the doctor's mention of them considering moving back to the area, Linhardt couldn't have guessed their home would be the same house.

_But would that mean they used to live in that penthouse before?_

“Ah! Linhardt! You're back!” Annette's voice shrills when she appears from the rehabilitation room. She waves at Dr. Eisner before she crooks her neck to see Mr. Hrym. “Oh! Good afternoon, Emile!” She then rushes towards Linhardt, who is still standing with an empty look on his face. Tugging on his arm, she excuses themselves before dragging him towards the office.

As soon as they enter the office, Annette pulls Linhardt to the break room and pushes him into a chair. She takes the spoon and cup of ice cream out of his hands before waving in his face to get his attention. “Hello? Annette to Linhardt!”

Linhardt blinks out from his daze, suddenly confused by the change of his surroundings. “Huh? Annette? Was I asleep?”

“You were talking with Dr. Eisner and um, well…” She pauses for a moment, a glint of worry in her eyes. “I guess the news shocked you?”

“News?” Linhardt asks.

“Dr. Eisner has been dating Emi- oh, I guess you know him as Jeritza,” Annette corrects herself as she continues explaining. “They've been dating for years and got engaged recently. I only found out about it a few days ago from my best friend Mercie, who is Jeritza's sister. Knowing that, are you going to be okay?”

“Am I going to be okay?” Linhardt reiterates, not understanding the question. The sight of Dr. Eisner and Mr. Hrym together did surprise him quite a bit, but what does their engagement have to do with him? He doesn't think much of it, nor does he have any lingering feelings about it.

The thought of lingering feelings suddenly makes him realize the reason for his lack of fatigue. As what he had hoped, his infatuation for Dr. Eisner no longer exists. He doesn't feel any particular weight of sadness or disappointment. The doctor being taken doesn't bother him one bit, but the fact that they're now engaged with his landlord intrigues him.

Linhardt smiles at Annette, who looks bewildered from his expression. “Oh, I'm better than okay, Annette. In fact, I'm feeling amazing.”

“You're not jealous or anything?” Annette asks.

“Jealous? Why would I be jealous?” Linhardt inquires before a playful smirk curls upon his lips. “Well, I do admit I envy Dr. Eisner for having the opportunity to ogle at my landlord's huge ass every day.”

“Linhardt!”

“I jest, Annette. I jest. By the way, you can have my melted ice cream,” Linhardt says, letting out a small laugh when his coworker checks and cringes at the cup she has been holding. All of the sudden, he hears a soft jingle coming from his phone. Taking it out of his pocket, he sees a text notification on the screen. Swiping over it, he reads what appears to be a message from Ashe.

_hello, Linhardt!_

_I'm sorry if this is late notice, but I'm at Arianrhod University auditorium to participate in the tournament happening at 3 this afternoon. I'm not sure when I'm going to be done, but whenever we're both home tonight…_

_can we talk?_

“Annette, what time is it now?” Linhardt asks while he sends a simple reply to Ashe.

“It's almost half past 1,” Annette tells him. “Something up?”

“Do you plan on going to see Ashe at the cooking tournament he'll be participating in?” 

“Yes! For sure!” Annette says cheerfully. “Do you want to come? I think Dr. Essar will allow you to leave early if you tell him.”

“I think I will,” Linhardt says, grinning softly to himself.

While his feelings for Dr. Eisner have passed, his feelings for two certain others are in need to be addressed. 

Sitting in a crowded waiting room among other contestants, Ashe takes a deep breath to calm his nerves. Upon arrival, everyone was informed by a tournament manager about the proceedings of the tournament. The tournament starts with the preliminaries, where over three thousand aspiring chefs participate across Arianrhod University campuses in Fódlan. Selected chefs from each campus then move on to the quarterfinals, followed by the semifinals. The remaining ten chefs will then participate in the final showdown at Garreg Mach Coliseum.

While the proceedings of the tournament seem easy to follow through, Ashe can't help but feel terrified. Not because the chances of winning are low or the fact he's facing against more experienced, talented chefs, but it's because there will be a live audience. Despite the tournament being prerecorded, the showdown will also be broadcasted to the whole world. It isn't like how he would help Dedue in his kitchen with only a tiny camcorder on a tripod facing them. He couldn't care any less about who was watching back then because he couldn't see them, nor couldn't hear them.

Hearing the echoes of the crowd cheering from the auditorium, Ashe lets out a shaky breath when a tournament manager calls everyone to head to the auditorium. Getting up from his seat, he follows everyone out to the hallway. The cheers from the audience grow louder upon each step, causing Ashe's legs to nearly give out due to his nervousness.

“Dear Goddess,” he whispers in prayer, feeling his heart ramming against his chest.

“Amen.”

“Huh?!” Ashe gasps, nearly bumping into the wall from the sudden voice. He turns to see someone with long lavender hair and their _beautiful_ face lightly caked with eyeshadow and lip gloss, all dressed into their chef uniform with a silver band around their arm labeled “#812”. Somehow finding this person to be awfully familiar, Ashe opens his mouth to speak. “You're…”

“Yes yes. Yuri Leclerc,” the person introduces himself as they continue walking. “Former idol. Former host. Former YouTube makeup guru. Currently a participant in this showdown. How has life been treating you, young sparrow?”

“Yuri!” Ashe cheerfully greets, smiling widely from seeing his old childhood friend. “It's been so long! I'm still working at Fish Money last we talked, but how are you?”

“Oh, better than ever now that I've seen your wonderful, radiating smile,” Yuri replies with a flirtatious wink, eliciting a laugh. “Life has been thrilling with its ups and downs. If you recall from our previous meeting, I was studying at Rowe.”

“Oh, that's right!” Ashe responds, but suddenly feels concerned for his friend. “If you're here… that means-”

“I was expelled,” Yuri answers, a bitter smile curling upon his lips. “A new school administration was in order, and the new school board chairman tried to convert everyone into his small-minded ideal of ‘true’ culinary arts. I, and many others, were opposed to it, so we had a choice. Stay and be forced to follow a one-track mind of thinking under some snobby old coot, or drop out. As you have probably guessed by now, I made my own choice.”

“You fought back with protesting?” Ashe asks knowingly, receiving a nod. He lets out a nervous laugh. “Haha… Well then. I guess it was a good thing I didn't pass the interview when I applied.”

“Oh, sweetheart. There are places that suit your talents better than Rowe,” Yuri tells him as they near the auditorium. “Although we're competing against each other, I do wish and hope that you will reach the finals. How about we meet each other there?”

Before he gives an answer, Ashe lets out a shaky breath when they reach the auditorium. The bright spotlights, the numerous cameras, and the applauding crowd all overwhelm him to the point his heart can't take it. A tournament manager tries to direct him to his cooking station, but he can't hear him over his stage fright until Yuri smacks him on the back.

“You got this, young sparrow. Take deep breaths. Think of this as a lunch rush.”

Stumbling over to his station, Ashe closes his eyes as he deeply inhales and exhales. His nerves have calmed down once the sounds of the audience fade into white noise. As soon as he opens his eyes, he looks around for Yuri, who is standing a couple of stations behind him. Yuri meets his eyes before mouthing out an “ _Are you okay now?_ ”, which he responds with a nod and a “ _thank you_ ”. Yuri then points at him with a pair of finger guns, silently repeating their earlier question of meeting him at the finals. Ashe gives them a nod, promising him that he will meet them at the final round of the showdown.

On stage before the cooking stations, the announcer begins with a set of rules, along with introducing the judges overseeing this round. The challenge of this round is for chefs to make healthy greens-based dishes for a buffet that will soon be served to selected participants from the general public. There is a time limit and a quota of dishes served for chefs to meet in order to pass onto the next round. 

Taking one last deep breath, Ashe pumps himself up with determination as the cook-off begins.

A few hours pass, and ten minutes remain. Many chefs have been struggling to meet the serving quota while others have served past it. While the competition hasn't been entirely fierce, some chefs begrudgingly gave up halfway due to Yuri attracting most of the general public with his melodious singing and appetizing slices of pesto pizza with fresh tomatoes and mozzarella.

Ashe, on the other hand, only has a few dishes left to serve. While keeping up with food trends benefited him, he finds it a little difficult to make a healthy dish that would immediately attract people. Unsure of being able to top Yuri's dish, his choice is tilapia and spaghetti with spinach-avocado sauce. Luckily, it attracted some people who couldn't get through the crowd surrounding Yuri, especially young children with their parents. Ingrid and Sylvain later appear from the selected group of people, only to get escorted away by security due to Ingrid engulfing more than seconds. 

With only one dish left to serve to meet the quota, Ashe feels more pressured due to running out of time. He looks over towards Yuri's station, which is still surrounded by a large group of people pushing and shoving each other over pizza. He lets out a defeated sigh before grinning sadly, feeling regretful about being unable to fulfill his promise.

All of the sudden, a young girl with sunglasses and a black shawl around her head with strands of green hair sticking out falls out of the crowd, landing on her bottom with an _oof_. She gets up and tries to push past the huddle, only to get shoved back out. Stumbling for a moment before regaining her balance, the girl looks wistful as her stomach growls. “Oh… I'm so hungry...”

Noticing the girl, Ashe is suddenly worried. Grabbing some tongs to serve some spaghetti from the pan and onto a plate, he steps out from his kitchen station and brings it over to her. “Excuse me, Miss. Would you be interested to try some fish and spaghetti?”

“Did you say ‘ _fish’_?” the girl asks, her eyes widening as she gazes upon the plate before her. “Oh my! Why if it isn't tilapia! And the green color of the spaghetti also looks exquisite.” Accepting the dish while offering her thanks, she grabs a fork and twists the pasta onto it before taking it into her mouth.

Ashe is suddenly taken aback as he watches the girl vacuum the whole dish in a matter of seconds. Once the empty plate is handed back to him, he chuckles sheepishly when the girl excuses her poor table manners. “You must have been hungry, huh?”

“Oh, I was famished. I unfortunately arrived late despite being selected to partake in this tournament,” the girl says, dabbing her mouth with a personal handkerchief. After cleaning herself up a little, she clasps her hands together in gratitude. “But thank you oh so very much for the meal! The sauce you used for the spaghetti had a remarkably clean taste. There was a good equal amount of vegetables and spaghetti. The tilapia was wonderfully seasoned as well. May I ask for your name?”

“Ashe,” Ashe simply introduces himself. “Ashe Ubert.”

“I shall commit it to memory then,” the girl responds as she takes her leave. “Your kindness will reward you tremendously, Ashe Ubert. I am ever so grateful. I wish you the best of luck on your cooking journey forward.”

Unable to thank the girl before she runs off, Ashe can't help but feel that he has met her before. He blanks out for a moment before he treads back to his cooking station, only to suddenly be bombarded with people having sudden interest in his dish. Wondering what has caused this, he looks over to Yuri, who winks at him before returning to cater his group of people.

Unsure of what to take that as, Ashe takes another deep breath before serving his dish.

As the final buzzer goes off, the preliminaries of the tournament have come to an end. The announcer directs everyone to look at the overhead monitor to see the results. The first top chef who served over the dish quota is Yuri, followed by many other talented chefs.

Ashe stares at the screen agape when he sees himself in the top ten. If it wasn't for the rush of people flooding to his station, he could have just simply passed the quota. He is relieved to have passed at least and he feels happy that he has gotten to serve a lot of people in this tournament.

After the wrap-up of the preliminaries, tournament managers approached the chefs who have passed to inform them of the upcoming schedule. Yuri congratulated Ashe on passing before reluctantly excusing himself to be interviewed by the media.

Before turning his attention to cleaning up his station, Ashe is suddenly tackled by a wild Sylvain while Ingrid takes his spaghetti leftovers from the pans. Dedue and Mercedes come by to give him a congratulatory hug while also helping him clean up. Annette comes running over from the stands to congratulate him, but he's suddenly surprised when he sees Linhardt following after her.

“Linhardt…” Ashe speaks while the rest of his friends try to stop Ingrid from inhaling the leftovers. “You came?”

“What? Am I not allowed to support a housemate in his cooking endeavors?” Linhardt asks in a teasing manner, prompting him to laugh. He gives him a soft smile. “But congratulations on passing, Ashe. Reaching the top ten was a miraculous feat.”

“Thanks, Linhardt,” Ashe replies before he suddenly recalls the texts he sent him. “Um…”

“We can talk when we get home,” Linhardt says knowingly. “I asked Hubert to drive us, so he's probably waiting outside the auditorium right now.” He pauses when he sees a reporter approach Dedue, followed by Dedue calling for Ashe. “I'll let him know that you still need to clean up and take care of an interview.”

“Alright. Thanks, Linhardt,” Ashe says, suddenly feeling his cheeks burn when he flashes him a wink similarly to Yuri's.

While he isn't exactly sure if Linhardt's gesture had any meaning, it certainly made his heart skip a beat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ Have a wonderful day! Remember to drink water! Stay safe!
> 
> twitter plug if you want to see the occasional word vomit I spout about Caspar or other nonsense that is probably a reason you shouldn't be following me: [myrmcheck](https://twitter.com/myrmcheck)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashe and Linhardt talk about their feelings with each other. Caspar joins in to talk about his feelings. The three of them declare their love together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooooo,,, how are you today?
> 
> **200723:** Last rewrite,,,,, Should mostly be good for now,,,,,,, and we will revert back to longer periods of the next chapter being posted because what is a schedule,,,,, don't know them. (I'm mostly kidding, but yeah.) Before I started to rewrite some of the chapters including this one (chapter 9), I was working on future ones. They're just not completed yet, but I appreciate those who have been understanding. Thank you to my betas and thank you to those who have been reading!
> 
> Content warning for food and heavy dialogue.

It was a silent ride until both Ashe and Linhardt arrived back home, thanking Hubert for the lift. After stepping out of the car, Linhardt excuses themself to drop off their things. Carrying a bag with containers full of leftovers that he managed to pack before Ingrid could engulf them, Ashe shuts the car door behind him. He turns around to see Hubert rolling down the car window. Ashe smiles before offering a box of his leftovers, along with some eating utensils. “Thank you again for the ride, Hubert. Would you like some spaghetti?”

Hubert glances at the box, the sharp glint in his eye making Ashe nervous. With a gloved hand, he takes the box and opens it, catching Ashe off guard as he immediately swirls the pasta around a fork and eats it. Since the first time they had met on the day Hubert had helped clear his and Linhardt's charges of theft, Ashe was a little intimidated by him due to his appearance. Hubert always looked disgruntled or rather annoyed while bantering with Linhardt, but the pleased expression on his face right now takes him by surprise. A content smile forms on Hubert's lips. “This dish is actually quite refreshing. I normally have my food to taste rather bland, so I tend to avoid any seasoning, but... I'm developing a liking to this dish. Would you be willing to part with another box or two? I would like to share this with my employers.”

“O-oh! Certainly!” Ashe complies, recounting the containers before handing two to him.

Receiving the food, Hubert thanks Ashe. He then glances over towards the penthouse, narrowing his eyes with a short glare until he begins to roll up the window. “I bid you a good night, Ashe. I also wish you well on your future endeavors.”

“Thank you, Hubert! Good night! Have a safe drive!” Ashe says, waving farewell to the leaving car. Letting out a sigh of relief, he turns to the penthouse to see Linhardt, who steps out from the entrance and closes the gate behind them. “Oh, Linhardt. You're back.”

Linhardt hums in response before nodding towards the bridge by the river. “Shall we go talk? I noticed you gave some leftovers to Hubert.”

“He actually said he likes my dish. I didn't think he'd be so nice,” Ashe replies, following them. He hears them burst into laughter. “What? Is that weird?”

“Oh, it's weird. Weird for Hubert, that is,” Linhardt says with a guffaw. They then clear their throat. “But enough about him. You said you wanted to talk? About something more important?”

“Y-yeah,” Ashe stutters when they stop at the bridge, suddenly anxious. He follows Linhardt to a nearby bench, placing his bag of leftovers between them as they both sit down. 

Something about the view from the bridge makes Ashe look up in wonder. The night sky is clear, yet sparkling with stars. The street lights are bright and shining beyond the river below, while a gentle breeze passes by. Despite living in the neighborhood for a long while, he doesn't often get the chance to see beautiful sights such as this. The atmosphere is calm and serene, lulling him into a relaxed state.

“I guess while you're admiring the view, I shall treat myself to some dinner.”

“Ah, sorry,” Ashe apologizes, Linhardt's voice pulling him out from his daze. “It's such a beautiful night.”

“Oh, I agree,” Linhardt says, helping themself to the leftovers. “But I don't mind if you keep looking at the stars. You actually look cute when you gaze up at the sky like that.”

“L-Linhardt,” Ashe stammers, feeling his cheeks warm at the compliment. Brushing it off as a tease, he is suddenly nervous again, but he knows he has to take this chance to talk to Linhardt about the recent events with him and Caspar. He takes a deep breath, his nerves calming down before he begins. “I want to talk about what happened… on the night after we got home from karaoke.” Linhardt hums in response, already digging into the food Ashe had made. Taking the hint that they're listening, Ashe continues. “After all of us saying 'good night' and that Caspar was saying that he loves you… I was a little sad.

“It's been a while, but I've had a crush on Caspar… and I still do. I'm not exactly sure when it started, but I… I like him. And I know I shouldn't be jumping to conclusions, but from the day you talked to me about why you were studying physical therapy and said that you might be in love with him, I wasn't sure whether you were teasing or not. Part of me felt that you were, but the other part felt you were being serious. The way you talk about Caspar and the time you two spent with each other as best friends… I feel that you have stronger feelings for him, but I might be wrong. I just assumed that was the case and decided to support you, instead of following through with my own feelings.

“So on that night, when I carried him to his room, Caspar told me that he loves me too, but he asked me if I love him back,” Ashe speaks, noticing the way Linhardt stops touching their food. He's suddenly afraid to elaborate, but he continues when he is given an expectant look. “At first, I honestly wasn't sure if I wanted to answer that. Having the thought of you possibly having feelings for him, I didn't want to indulge mine, yet… I did. I confessed to him.” He watches as Linhardt resumes eating, noticing a pleased smile when they take a bite out of the grilled salmon from his leftovers. Their smile then fades into an unreadable expression. 

_Are they mad?_ Ashe wonders. Linhardt's silence is starting to make him feel uneasy and a little regretful.

The silence continues for another moment. He tries to sigh, but it all comes out in a shaky breath. “I'm really sorry, Linhardt.”

After a long pause, Linhardt continues to clear out the rest of their food. Once they close the container and put it back into the bag, they start to twirl the fork they used in between their fingers, looking to be in deep thought. They suddenly ask, “Did he say anything after you confessed to him?”

“Well… No,” Ashe says, his face heating up at the inquiry. “He fell asleep.”

“Fell asleep?”

Ashe nods.

“Was he even awake while you confessed to him?”

“I thought he was… I saw him look surprised when I told him I had a crush on him, but I shied away afterwards,” Ashe responds, but he suddenly jumps when Linhardt is leaning in towards him. Looking up to meet their eyes, he still can't read their expression. He is even confused at the lack of anger in their tone. There isn’t even any coldness, but he feels that they're holding back. Not trusting himself to speak clearly, he swallows nervously.

After a brief silence, Linhardt suddenly bursts into laughter.

“Linhardt!” Ashe whines, blushing when passing bystanders look in their direction. Linhardt continues to laugh, making Ashe stare at them, dumbfounded. “Why are you laughing? Shouldn't you be mad?”

“Mad?” Linhardt asks, wiping a tear from their eye. “Should I be mad?” 

“Well, um…”

“Let me clarify some things for you,” Linhardt says, dropping the fork into the bag before moving it out from the space between them. They scoot a little closer before they begin. “When I said that I might be in love with Caspar, I was teasing you at the time to see your reaction. I could tell that you had a crush on him, even prior to that day, actually.” 

At that, Ashe grins sheepishly. “Was I that obvious?”

“You were,” Linhardt replies. “Thinking back on it, I might have also mentioned being in love with Caspar out of pettiness. I admit... I was envious of how he always gave you physical affection instead of me. Caspar used to tackle me with hugs all the time when we were kids, but then... he stopped. I think he stopped after the time he got his shoulder injury, which I understood due to his condition at the time, but… a part of me misses those hugs. I think that was also the time I began experiencing some romantic feelings I had repressed for a long time. I might have fallen for him when he stood up for me against some bullies. My heart ached with bitterness and jealousy when he was dating someone, but I felt torn apart when I watched him get hurt. Although I decided to pursue physical therapy for him, I never addressed these feelings or even thought of them as such. So, whenever I saw him hug you, even asking you if he could kiss you, I was jealous. 

“In fact, I was also envious when you two adopted Thiefy together, not because I was feeling left out, but because I wanted it to be me. I wanted to be the one who adopted a cat with him. Now that I'm hearing you confessed to him, I wish that it was me who confessed to him first. Seeing that he fell asleep on you, I'm not the least bit surprised.” Ashe nearly chokes on his spit and opens his mouth to apologize, but Linhardt shushes him with a raise of their hand. “Now, now. I don't harbor any ill will towards you because of this, so don't apologize.” They let out a sigh. “As much as I am jealous, I am also sick of it. Jealousy is exhausting to deal with, and I'd prefer not to fight over Caspar, so… knowing that I actually have feelings for him, how do you feel?”

“I…” Ashe utters, but he is unsure of how to react. He is relieved that Linhardt isn't mad at him, but he doesn't know where to go from there. “I'm at least glad that we can talk like this, and... I don't want to fight over Caspar either… but I'm not sure what to do since both of us like him.”

“Do you want to pursue your feelings?” Linhardt inquires, causing Ashe’s eyes to widen. “I don't mind if you want to. In fact, I would like to propose something.”

“Propose what?” Ashe asks.

“We share him.”

Ashe blinks at them for a moment until it suddenly registers in his head. He gawks at them in shock. “Share him?!”

“If I’d thought of this when he was dating someone, I think I would be opposed to it,” Linhardt explains, looking slightly unnerved before they smile warmly at him. “But I don't mind if he's dating you.”

“B-b-but,” Ashe stutters, feeling skeptical about the idea. “Caspar… He's-”

“His own person. I'm aware,” Linhardt states. “By sharing, I don't mean a relationship where I would spend time with him on some days while you spend time with him on other days. I am talking about a relationship that includes all of us together.”

“All of us?” Ashe reiterates, earning a nod. “Together?”

“I am open to having a polyamorous relationship with him... and you. Of course, we'll talk to him about our feelings and see what he thinks, though it may take time for him to register our feelings in his brain. Not even my flirting can reach him, regardless of whether it's subtle or not.” They let out a snort when Ashe gapes at them, but they then sigh. “Unfortunately, he's been avoiding me, so whenever he gets home we'll catch him. Caspar is a very important person to me, but...” They lean in closer, causing Ashe to lean against the back of the bench. “You are a very special person to me too, Ashe.”

“M-me?” Ashe reiterates, but his eyes widen when their face moves in closer. “W-wait, Linhardt!”

They freeze. “Something the matter?”

His heart hammering against his chest, Ashe looks at Linhardt. He swallows nervously when he sees their intense gaze, but slowly allows himself to admire their deep blue eyes, their flawless skin, and their soft emerald hair. His breath hitches when they lean in closer, their foreheads nearly touching while Linhardt’s hand slowly rises to cup his face.

But they don't touch him. Linhardt pulls away.

“Sorry, I am getting ahead of myself. I didn't mean to tease,” Linhardt apologizes, grinning softly when Ashe stares at them. “Do you need time?”

Feeling the tingling from where Linhardt's fingers ghosted his cheek, Ashe is left confused, but a little dejected. He knows that it is best to think about their proposal, yet a part of him feels that he already knows what he wants. While the thought never crossed his mind, he isn't opposed to being in a relationship with both Caspar and Linhardt. The idea is actually appealing in itself, but he knows he has to consider the consequences.

But for now, he casts those worries aside.

“I'm not against the idea,” Ashe tells them, his face flushed. “But… can we... can we take it slow?”

“Oh, of course,” Linhardt says, their growing smile becoming more captivating. It makes Ashe's heart thump. “Do let me know if I take things too far. I admit I haven't been in an actual serious relationship. Most of them were flings and one-night stands, so I can't promise I'll be the best when it comes to emotional support, but ah… I'm rambling.”

“No, it's alright, Linhardt. It's been a while for me too. Even if you think you might not be good at it, I know you'll be trying your best. You trying is what matters to me,” Ashe reassures them, laughing when Linhardt uncharacteristically shies away. “Aw, what's wrong? Was I... being too honest?”

“I don't know what it is about whenever you praise me, but it's… nice,” Linhardt says, their cheeks tinted pink. A bit surprised at seeing this side of them, Ashe smiles warmly. Linhardt returns it, letting out a small laugh. “Now that that's settled… we just have to talk to Caspar.”

“Talk to me about what?”

Both Ashe and Linhardt stiffen at the voice, turning around to see Caspar with Thiefy's head poking out of his jacket.

“Caspar… and Thiefy,” Ashe utters, still looking at him in shock. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Oh, not long,” Caspar replies, hands in his pockets. “I just got home, and Little Thiefy was in my room clawing at the window because he saw you guys here. It… um…” He chuckles nervously. “It looked like you two were about to kiss.”

Ashe sputters in response while Linhardt smirks at him. “Want to join us? I think it would be hot if we did some three-way tongue action.”

“L-Linhardt!” Both Ashe and Caspar scream, followed by the cat letting out a happy _meow_.

“In all seriousness, Ashe and I would like to talk to you about something important,” Linhardt clarifies, standing up from the bench. “But let's talk inside. It's starting to get awfully cold out here. Faerghus weather is still the worst.”

“Oh, um… okay! I got something I need to talk to you guys about too!” Caspar answers as the three of them walk back home.

While Ashe is happy that his and Linhardt's talk ended on a positive note, he tries to bury all his worries over Caspar, hoping that they can settle their problems amicably.

Upon arriving back to their house, Ashe reheats some leftovers for Caspar to have for dinner. Linhardt warms themself up with a nice cup of tea, sitting at the counter while also waiting for their second share of leftovers. Caspar, on the other hand, can't make himself stay still. He has been pacing back and forth around the living area, wondering where to start with their conversation. He knows he has to apologize to both Ashe and Linhardt, as well as telling Linhardt that he wants to go back to fighting again.

But a part of him also wants to tell them that he loves them both.

The thought is nearly making his heart explode.

“Instead of making a groove in the floor, how about you sit with me, Caspar?” Linhardt offers, patting a stool by their side.

“Oh, um… alright!” Caspar answers, rushing over and plopping down on the seat. Despite sitting down, he still can't stay still, uncontrollably bouncing his knee while his nerves go haywire. He then freezes when a cup of tea is pushed his way, looking up to see Ashe grinning at him. “Oh! Thanks, Ashe!” He takes a whiff, instantly feeling relaxed from the herbal scent. “Woo! Ginger! Hahaha! My favorite!”

“I guess I'll start while the food is still being prepared,” Linhardt says, placing their tea down before turning to Caspar. They grimace when Caspar audibly slurps from his cup, but chuckles regardless of their best friend's manners. “Do you remember when we talked about admiring people the other day? When we talked about crushes?” Caspar widens his eyes in response before stiffly nodding. “Well, I have a confession to make.”

The tea Caspar just drank suddenly feels like a large gulp. He manages to swallow it, but it almost scorches his throat. He coughs a bit before asking. “A confession?”

Linhardt nods before they softly smile at him. “I love you, Caspar.”

“Huh?” Caspar replies, staring blankly at his best friend. Something about the way Linhardt said those words makes his heart skip a beat, but he is suddenly confused. “You love me?”

“Let me put it this way,” Linhardt answers before they start to explain.

Caspar listens as his best friend talks, slowly taken aback when he hears how Linhardt has been feeling about him recently. Hearing about how Linhardt felt jealous over him hugging Ashe instead of him, about how Linhardt was torn up when his shoulder got hurt, and about how Linhardt mostly chose to study physical therapy for him…

Caspar feels overwhelmingly touched.

But he also feels he doesn't deserve it.

“I didn't know you felt that way, Linhardt,” Caspar responds, but he stares at his cup of tea. “How could you love me though? Why do you love me? I…” He takes a deep breath, looking up at Linhardt before he continues. “I love you too, Linhardt. I… I’ve loved you for a while now. I didn't mean to stop giving you hugs. I guess I stopped because back then, when I had surgery, and you rushed in crying… it felt like I was hurting you. I was the one who made you cry. I was hurting you because I always made you worry whenever I had a match. I was hurting you, Linhardt. I didn't think... I deserved… to hug you anymore. I don't think I deserve you.”

“Caspar-”

“And Ashe,” Caspar cuts Linhardt off, watching as Ashe stiffens for a moment before turning around to face him. “I'm so sorry for falling asleep on you that night. I can't blame myself for being drunk, but I blame myself for pouring my feelings onto you and not thinking about how it could affect you. Reason I couldn’t help myself is because I'm actually in love with you too. You might think I'm fucking weird for this, but it's because I also love Linhardt even though I don't deserve him, so I clung onto you and-”

“I love you too, Caspar.”

“Haha, cool! You also love me, but I still don't think I deserve you either because I-” Caspar stops for a moment when he realizes Ashe said something. “Wait… What?”

“I also love you, Caspar,” Ashe replies, his voice soft. “And I'm sorry, too.”

Caspar looks between both Ashe and Linhardt, thinking back to both of their confessions until it suddenly dawns on him. He blurts out in shock: “What in Alm's fucking cockpiece?!”

“Well, this is easier than I thought,” Linhardt comments before they explain. “Ashe and I talked it out earlier. I told him I was getting tired of being jealous, and he wants to take things slow with us. Us, as in, you _and_ me.” Caspar's mouth drops open, causing Linhardt to hold back a laugh. “I understand that the idea may seem odd to you, but I propose that we have a polyamorous relationship. You, Ashe, and myself. Ashe and I love you, and you love the both of us.”

“Hold up,” Caspar responds, gears turning in his head while he tries to think about the proposal. He points at Linhardt. “So you… love me… And…” He then points at Ashe. “And you… also love me.” They both nod before Caspar asks, “You don't think it's weird that I… love both of you?”

“It doesn't have to be weird,” Ashe answers, holding a shy, but cute smile on his face. “But it's nice… hearing that you love the both of us.”

“I… don't know what to say…” Caspar replies, beaming. Despite his worries over hurting two of his friends, he feels happy. Linhardt loves him. Ashe loves him. He loves them. 

With his heart feeling full, Caspar can't contain himself any longer, hopping off his seat and running to the front door. Opening it, he dashes out, ignoring the late night chill as he rushes up the stairs towards the roof. Hearing Ashe call his name along with footsteps following him, he reaches the top of the penthouse. 

Gazing up towards all the stars in the sky shining above him, Caspar takes a deep breath before he shouts out loud: “I love you, Linhardt! I love you, Ashe!” A jacket is suddenly thrown at the back of his head, causing him to squawk. He manages to catch it before it hits the ground. Laughing as he slips comfortably into his jacket, he turns around to see both Linhardt and Ashe.

“I understand your excitement, Caspar, but please don't disturb the neighbors, or Mr. Hrym,” Linhardt advises, but they wear a gentle smile on their face. “So, is it safe to assume that you accept?”

“Heck yeah I accept! I'll gladly marry you both if I could!” Caspar answers while putting his jacket on. He snickers when Ashe sputters and Linhardt gawks at him. He then recalls something from their earlier conversation, clearing his throat. “Oh, right. We're taking it slow first. That's fine! But um…” His prior worries resurface again, especially when he looks at Linhardt with sad eyes. “Are you sure you want to go out with me? Like do you really want me? I… I hurt you guys.”

“I cannot speak for Ashe, but you haven't hurt me, Caspar. Even if there's a chance that you will in the future, I am certain that we can all resolve it as long as we trust and communicate with each other,” Linhardt reassures him.

“Well, about that... There is something else I've been meaning to tell you guys,” Caspar says, Linhardt's expectant look making him nervous. “I… I'm going back to fight again… at the MMA tournament. I talked it out with the sushi guy- I mean Felix- the other day.” He watches as Linhardt's eyes widen for a moment, but their surprise shortly drops. He hesitates to elaborate until Linhardt steps closer to him. Caspar looks to see that they're still worried, but the serious glint in their eyes is urging him to continue. Caspar smiles at him. “I know that you don't like it when I fight, but I really want to do this. While my shoulder is my weak point, Felix is going to teach me some moves to prevent it from being targeted. I know it's recommended for me not to fight, but… I also went to see Dr. Eisner today. They agreed to help me, so I'm going to train the best I can! I'm going to become stronger so you don't have to worry anymore! But… if that bothers you I understand. I don't think you should go out with me if it-”

“So that's why you were at the hospital,” Linhardt interjects, their smile soft but it doesn't quite reach their eyes. “Yes, I don't like it when you fight. There are times when you would be reckless, and your injuries prior to the incident have made me sick with worry… But if I'm being honest…” Linhardt approaches Caspar and takes his hand, their own being surprisingly warm despite the cold. “I felt like I was holding you back, and I still do. I know how much you want to go back to fighting, and I'm still terrified of the thought that you'll be severely injured again, but… Don't let my worries hinder you from doing what you love. If you desire to make a comeback, then train harder. Become stronger. For me…” Linhardt pauses as they wave for Ashe to come closer. They usher Ashe to take Caspar's other hand, bringing all three of them together with their fingers intertwined. “For Ashe… and for yourself.”

“Linhardt…” Caspar utters softly, feeling touched. He then turns to Ashe. “What about you?”

“I admit I have my concerns too, but it was my own insecurities that hurt me. Not you, Caspar,” Ashe replies, smiling fondly at him. “I honestly felt that I shouldn't get in the way since you two have known each other for a long time. I honestly felt that I had no place in having a relationship with you, Caspar, but… With the three of us together… This is all new to me, and I may be awkward at first, but... I want to support the both of you.”

“Wait, now that I think about it,” Caspar speaks, his eyes darting between Ashe and Linhardt. “Do you guys like each other too? I mean, I know you guys talked, but…”

“Oh, not to worry, Caspar,” Linhardt reassures him. “Ashe is also special to me. I admit that I can't help but _adore_ him.” They tug Ashe close to them, causing the other to wail. “Isn't he precious?”

“Haha, yeah! I get what you mean!” Caspar agrees. “Ashe is a cutie!”

“You guys… Stop making me blush,” Ashe whines, his whole face beet red. He then chuckles. “Linhardt teases me a lot, but… I can't say that I hate it. I know it's their own way of showing that they love me.”

Linhardt wheezes at that, their face a little flushed as well. “Oh, Ashe. You really know how to shoot an arrow right into my heart.”

His eyes brimming with tears, Caspar lets out a sniff, emotions suddenly overwhelming him while his heart is fluttering. “You guys… I…” He lets go of their hands before he brings both Linhardt and Ashe into his arms for a hug. “I love you guys! I really really love you!”

“I love you too, Caspar, and I love you, Linhardt,” Ashe says, who is getting a little emotional himself.

“And I love you… Both of you,” Linhardt adds, huddling closer into the shared warmth.

Caspar didn't expect this to happen. He didn't expect for his feelings to be returned. Both of his feelings, his love for Linhardt and his love for Ashe. With both Ashe and Linhardt in his arms and hugging him back, it feels like a dream come true.

“What's with all the racket?”

Both Caspar and Ashe scream while Linhardt pulls away to see the landlord, all dressed in pink pajamas with grey kitten slippers. A little amused at the attire, they sigh as they pull away from the hug. “Relax. It's just Mr. Hrym.” They then hear another set of footsteps, laughing quietly to themself when they see a familiar face peeking in between the handrail bars. “And hello, Dr. Eisner.”

“Dr. Eisner?” Caspar asks, turning his head before he jolts. “Huh?! Hey! What are you doing here?”

“I live here.”

“Since when?!”

“Last week.”

“Wait… Wait…” Caspar thinks for a moment, his eyebrows furrowed. “I know someone was moving in with Mr. Hrym, but…” His eyes widen in realization. “What the hell? The person moving in was you? But then…” He then gasps, noticing the matching bands on their fingers. “You and Mr. Hrym are getting married?!”

“It's been a while since we've seen each other, but congratulations, Byleth!” Ashe says.

Dr. Eisner smiles as they cling onto Mr. Hrym's arm. “Thank you, Ashe.”

“Huh?!” Caspar exclaims. “You two know each other?!”

“They were the previous tenant on the second floor before I moved in,” Ashe informs them. “But I also knew them through Bylese.”

“Huh,” Linhardt simply comments, intrigued. “That's actually interesting.”

“If you three have nothing better to do, I advise you to return back inside,” Mr. Hrym gruffs before he stares down at Caspar. “And Bumbleburg…”

“What? Are you doing this again?” Caspar grumbles. “It's Bergliez!”

“Just because you were deemed fit to fight, the Death Knight will not answer your invitation for a rematch until you have proven yourself,” Mr. Hrym tells him before he quietly takes his leave.

“Oh, I'll prove myself!” Caspar declares, smacking his fist into his hand. “If it's to get you to tell me the truth, then I'll train as hard as I can, just so I can punch the answer outta ya!”

“A rematch?” Linhardt asks, watching Caspar run after their landlord. As much as they want Caspar to be happy, they are reluctant. They know fighting is important to Caspar. They know how much Caspar wants to return to their fighting career. 

They just don't know what they’ll do with themself if Caspar gets brutally injured again.

“Linhardt?” Ashe says, his voice full of concern. “Are you alright?”

“I…” Linhardt pauses for a moment to clear their head, their worries weighing heavily on their mind. “To be honest, I’m still scared. I’m still scared of him getting hurt again. I do want to support Caspar and his dream because I truly want the best for him, but I’m still worried about him.”

“Will it ease your worries if I share something with you, Linhardt?” Dr. Eisner asks as they approach the two. Linhardt nods, prompting them to speak. “He came by my office today to discuss his shoulder injury. He plans on making a return to fighting. He was insistent despite the high recommendation for him not to fight, so I went ahead and had him go through some tests. While his shoulder hasn't completely healed and there's still a risk of it worsening if he's not careful, it's still possible for him to participate in the MMA tournament.” Linhardt’s eyes widen. “He can still partake in regular exercise and training. I already suggested a routine with the resistance band for him to help relieve any pain or tension in his shoulder. I'll be seeing him every week to check his progress.”

“I need you to clarify something, Dr. Eisner,” Linhardt says, feeling wary over this. “It was stated before that it was highly recommended for him not to fight anymore. As a physician, are you actually approving him on going against that recommendation?”

“Caspar is my patient,” Dr. Eisner states. “While it is my job to make sure patients like him are in the best state of healthiness, I believe it is also my job to support them and their dream.”

“Their dream?” Linhardt questions.

“As physical therapists, what do we do?” Dr. Eisner asks before they continue explaining. “All kinds of patients come to us for their needs while others come to us for their wants. Some of them are in need of healing, lessening the pain in both their bodies and minds. Some of them want to get back on their feet again because if their body can't work, they can't do what they want to do. Instead of placing a limit on things they can and can't do, I believe in finding alternatives to help them. In Caspar's case, he wants to fight again, so what can we do to help him?”

“Support his dream,” Linhardt answers, awestruck by realization.

No matter how much they dislike Caspar participating in violent fighting matches, Linhardt has always admired how brightly Caspar smiles after he wins. They have always admired how excited Caspar looked before a match, how animated he gets when he talks about defeating an opponent, and how happy he is when he gets praised for winning.

Caspar's happiness is what’s best for him, and Linhardt has vowed to continue supporting him while also believing in him.

Linhardt sighs with relief before giving the doctor a light smile. “Thank you, Dr. Eisner. I think I understand now.”

Dr. Eisner returns the smile, nodding before they take their leave. “If you would like, I can have you assist during his appointments. We can talk about it at work. Until then, have a good night, you two.”

“Good night, Byleth!” Ashe bids before he turns to Linhardt. “Let's head back in. I think Caspar's back home already.”

Linhardt hums, following Ashe down the stairs and back into their home.

“Caspar!” Ashe shouts once the two of them enter and close the door behind them. “Don't eat from the pan!”

Standing by the stove, Caspar talks back, but his words are garbled from the food in his mouth. He quickly chews before swallowing it down. “Haha! Sorry, Ashe! I just wanted to try the dish that got you to the top 10! I normally don't like eating fish a lot, but if it's cooked by you, then I don't mind eating it because you make it so delicious!”

“Aw, Caspar. I was only lucky,” Ashe says before he takes the pan away. He laughs when Caspar lets out a whine. “Come on, Caspar. At least save some for Linhardt too.”

Returning to their seat at the countertop, Linhardt quietly observes both Caspar and Ashe bantering over the food. Seeing the goofy grin on Caspar's face and an amused smile on Ashe's, Linhardt finally feels at peace. While it is only the beginning of their new relationship together, a certain warm feeling blooms in their chest, but they don't know how to describe it. It's as if they feel closer to them than ever before.

Linhardt watches Caspar place an empty plate before them, followed by Ashe filling it with a second serving of the pasta he made. They both smile at them, the warmth of their expressions causing them to give a loving smile of their own.

Caspar is their light.

Ashe is their guide to make their life brighter.

With the three of them together, Linhardt feels loved. They feel safe.

And they also feel right at home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boi I can't wait for love love love soft soft wholesome time
> 
> Thank you for reading!! Have a nice day!!!
> 
> poopie twitter plug: [myrmcheck](https://twitter.com/myrmcheck)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Linhardt offers Lysithea some encouraging support. They shortly meet Caspar at the rehabilitation room for a checkup. Ashe passes another round of the cook-off and sees one of his role models. Upon arriving home, Caspar briefly speaks with Mr. Hrym but later ends up getting caught outside in a rainstorm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha hi. How are you?
> 
>  **201028:** I know it has been a while since I updated, so I apologize to anyone who has been waiting. I've actually had this chapter finished and polished for a while, but I've been hesitant on posting it due to anxiety along with having mixed feelings on whether or not I wanted to continue with this story. I still struggle with these feelings, so it will be some time until I post the next update after this chapter. I really appreciate those who have been patient, as well as the friends who have been offering kind words and support. I still really love Ashe, Caspar, and Linhardt together and I still intend to keep writing because I do want to finish this story. I'll also do some revising for the earlier chapters, so I'm sorry to anyone who has already went through chapter 9 and THIS chapter (10) all like, "Huh? Linhardt's pronouns are actually consistent now??" asdfghjkl 
> 
> **201101:** Whoa, revising done. Hee ho.
> 
> Thank you to Tochisuke and Saringold for being understanding and taking the time to look over this chapter!

Stepping out of a patient's room after a checkup, Linhardt lets out a tired yawn. He has been assisting Marianne with her rounds of bedside therapy most of the day, helping patients with their exercises and managing their pain. While the effort he puts into his work is still lackadaisical, primarily his unfinished reports, his superiors have noted that he has been taking extra care of patients. He had helped a lost elderly patient by escorting her to the rehabilitation room on time for her appointment. He had read a couple of books to children in the hospital's sun room. He had even peeled some fruit for a patient while listening to them vent about their troubles. The patient had thanked him afterwards, giving a compliment that left him feeling conflicted afterwards.

_“You have such a kind heart, Dr. Hevring.”_

He finds the statement to be rather shocking. To think that anyone would describe him to have a kind heart is astonishing enough. Him. Linhardt von Hevring, who is often aloof and apathetic towards a lot of people, has a kind heart. He doesn't know how to feel about it.

“Dr. Hevring, have you finished?”

“Huh? Oh, yes,” Linhardt responds when he sees Marianne, who hands him a patient's file. He takes a glance to see that it's Lysithea's. “Oh, she's next.”

“Someone is visiting her right now, but once they're done, you can check up on her,” Marianne instructs. 

“Yes, ma'am,” Linhardt responds in a mock-teasing manner, letting out a grunt when a playful elbow jabs his side. Waving goodbye to his superior, he excuses himself as he makes his way to visit Lysithea. 

Upon arriving at her designated room, Linhardt sees a short woman with long white hair tied in a ponytail, dressed in a red suit. She steps out of the room and closes the door behind her, a hand pressed to her temple and a distraught expression on her face. He suddenly recognizes her as their eyes meet. Letting out a sigh, he reluctantly approaches her. His lips press into a thin line as he watches her eyes narrow at him. “Bitch.”

“Whore,” the woman retorts, tossing her hair over her shoulder. Despite their name-calling, she gives him a friendly smile. “Nice to see you again, Linhardt. I've heard that you are an intern here.”

“Pleasure seeing you as well, Edelgard,” Linhardt says, returning the greeting. “What brings the CEO of Hresvelg Entertainment here to Fhirdiad?”

“I have some business matters in the area to attend to throughout the week, so I am around for the time being,” Edelgard answers. She then glances at the folder in his hands, raising an eyebrow. “Oh. I see that you're checking up on Lysithea.”

“Do you know her?” Linhardt asks.

“Know her?” Edelgard repeats, staring at him with a dumbfounded look. She raises a hand to her face. “Linhardt. Do you not know anything about your own patient?”

“I…” Linhardt drawls. Since the first time he had met Lysithea, he only knew of her accident. He never had the opportunity to get to know her more, especially due to his off-putting behavior that caused her to push him away. He knows that he was at fault. While he has been more mindful of his words around her, he still doesn't know anything else about her aside from her health, not even her occupation.

“She is one of the many talents I have had the pleasure of recruiting,” Edelgard informs him. “An idol in the world of magicians. She mostly specializes in illusions and often caters to children.”

“An illusionist?” Linhardt inquires, earning a curt nod. He’d assumed Lysithea was a stunt person at best. Seeing as children are her audience, he notes the connection to the toy store, the scene of her accident.

“Anyway,” Edelgard says. “Before you check up on her, I am warning you that she's currently in a bad mood. She's been refusing to see or even open up to anyone since the accident. She's also like a younger sister to me, so I advise you to not say anything unnecessary.”

“You don't have to tell me,” Linhardt groans, bumping her away from the door so he can enter. He grins mischievously as he watches her stumble in her heels. “Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go see her. Have a nice day, Edel-” He spits when she swings her ponytail into his face, the sensation of her white hair getting into his mouth making him hack a little. Shortly regaining his composure, he sends her a glare, watching her leave with her tongue stuck out at him.

After giving his old friend the finger, Linhardt lets out a sigh before chuckling to himself. He then knocks before sliding open the door to Lysithea's room, nearly faltering for a bit when he sees the room filled with flower baskets and get-well-soon presents; the whole room is a bit too colorful for his tastes. His eyes look over towards a big blanket-covered lump on the hospital bed. Figuring Lysithea is under the blanket, Linhardt closes the door behind him. “Hello, Lysithea. I am here to check up on you.” He watches her stir under the blanket, grabs a nearby chair, and drags it towards her bed. Once he sits down, he notices a tray of food, left untouched. “Are you not hungry, Lysithea? Your lunch is getting cold.”

“I don't care,” Lysithea's muffled voice responds.

“Well, that's no good,” Linhardt says, but he decides not to push the topic any further. Seeing Lysithea in her current state, he isn't sure how to move forward with the check-up. He attempts to talk to her anyway. “May I ask how you're feeling? If you're unwell, I'll let Dr. Edmund know so we can postpone today's therapy and-”

Abruptly flipping the blanket off her head, Lysithea sniffs. Her eyes are red, puffy, and brimming with tears. Her mouth is trembling, protruding into a pout. 

Linhardt grabs some tissues from a nearby side table and hands them to her, smiling as she murmurs a “thank you” and takes them. After a brief moment of watching her blow her nose, he carefully asks. “Is everything alright? You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, but I think it would help if you're upset.”

“I'm not upset,” Lysithea says, sniffling as she carelessly tosses her snot-soaked tissues into a nearby wastebasket. She turns away, glancing at one of the gift flowers she'd received before looking down at her food. “I'm just frustrated with myself… I'm frustrated because I still can't walk like I used to. While Dr. Edmund has told me that I've been making progress, I just feel like I'm not recovering any faster.” She looks at Linhardt, scowling before she turns away. “What? No remark this time?”

“I don't think I should say anything unless you want me to,” Linhardt replies. “I'm fine with listening.”

Lysithea lets out a grumble before heaving out a sad sigh. “My fans… They're still waiting for me… They've been sending me gifts with cards of wishes for my speedy recovery. They've been constantly leaving comments on my social media pages, telling me to get well soon. It's been months since the accident. It's been months since I messed up the trick and got myself hurt. It's been months since I failed and disappointed them, yet… they're still waiting for me.” Her eyes begin to well up again, her teeth gritting together before she lets out a shaky sob. “I don't understand! Why do they still care about me? Why do they insist on waiting for someone who is a complete failure? Why wait for me when my legs can't recover faster?!” She looks at Linhardt, pouting as she sniffles. “What? Say something.”

Having been quiet throughout Lysithea's venting, Linhardt calmly speaks to her. “I think they've been waiting for you because they are your fans, Lysithea. If they weren't your fans, they wouldn't care about you as much as they do now.” Lysithea’s eyes widen in response, prompting him to give her a gentle smile. “Yes, you have made a mistake that has cost you your legs, but I think your fans care much more about your health and safety than whatever magic trick you're doing. While I'm sure they don't intend to rush you on your recovery, I know that your fans are still waiting for you, no matter how long it'll take you to be on your feet again.” Lysithea stares at him, the surprise in her eyes beginning to make him concerned. “I'm sorry. Did I say something offensive again?”  
“No…” Lysithea answers. “That was actually the nicest thing anyone has said to me, especially from you of all people.”

Linhardt stifles a chuckle at that, replacing it with a feigned cough. “Well, as I said, your health and safety are important. Dr. Edmund, Annette, and I will do whatever we can to help you walk so you can see your fans again.”

“I…” Lysithea pauses with a sniff, taking another offered tissue from him. Blowing her nose with a squeak, she takes a deep breath before smiling at him. “Thank you, Linhardt… I actually feel better now.”

Linhardt is about to answer when a knock is heard at the door. As it slides open, Annette pops into the room. “Hey, Linhardt! Dr. Eisner wants you to assist them with a patient. They also want you to- BAH!” She jumps at the sight of Lysithea with red and swollen eyes. “Oh no! Lysithea! Everything okay?”

“Don't worry. I'm fine,” Lysithea reassures her with a faint smile. “I was bothering Linhardt with my rambling.”

“You? Bothering him?” Annette asks, surprised.

“It was no bother at all,” Linhardt says, getting up from his seat and pushing the chair over to Annette. “Now if you two will excuse me, I believe I am needed somewhere else.”

“Oh, yes!” Annette confirms. “At the rehabilitation room. Dr. Eisner says to start the next patient's examination without them because they have to take an important call.”

Taking it as a mental note, Linhardt hands her Lysithea's file and leaves to make his way towards the rehabilitation room.

Upon entering, Linhardt's eyes widen. Not minding the other doctors and patients in the room, he immediately heads straight to a certain patient, who is swinging his legs while sitting in wait on an examination table. With a soft expression, Linhardt approaches him. “Hello, Caspar.”

His head shooting up at the greeting, Caspar's mouth breaks into an excited, goofy grin. “Linhardt! Hey! Oh, wait. Sorry. I mean, Dr. Hevring! Hahaha! You look professional.”

Linhardt chuckles at that, grabbing the patient file from the table and flipping through it. “I may look professional, but I doubt that I am anything of the sort.”

“Aw… Give yourself some more credit, Linnie!” Caspar encourages, his nickname making Linhardt's heart swell. “I'm sure you're doing a great job regardless!”

“I… Thank you, Caspar,” Linhardt replies, his face warming at the kind words. While it has been roughly a week since he, Caspar, and Ashe declared their love for each other, the fact that they're all dating feels peculiarly strange to him. Despite being the one who proposed a polyamorous relationship, he wouldn't deny that it was all new to him. Ashe had started preparing boxed lunches for him and Caspar to eat during their breaks, and the sentiment warmed his heart, especially with the abundance of desserts Ashe would surprise him with every day. While he is figuring out a way to return his feelings to Ashe…

Linhardt senses something off between him and Caspar.

Especially when Caspar's eyes won't meet his own.

“So, did you go through some exercises for today?”

“Yep!” Caspar answers, rolling his right shoulder. “I did some stretching, some push-ups, and some resistance band training.”

“Noticed any changes?”

“Well…” Caspar drawls. Linhardt finds the way his lips purse while he is thinking to be quite endearing. Rolling his shoulder again, Caspar lets out a sigh. “I still feel some strain when I try to stretch my arm in a certain way. My shoulder is usually fine if I don't put too much force on it when I'm doing push-ups or some stretching, but it still feels uncomfortable at times.” His eyes then light up in glee. “But I'm learning new moves from Felix that require me to use my feet instead! The way he demonstrates them looks really cool! Once I master them, I won't necessarily have to use my right arm.”

“That's good to hear,” Linhardt comments before he sets the file aside and moves to a nearby sink station to wash his hands. “Do you mind if I go ahead and examine your shoulder right now? I need you to take your shirt off.”

“M-my shirt off?” Caspar splutters.

Shutting the sink off and drying his hands with a towel, Linhardt raises an eyebrow at him. “Yes? I need to check to make sure there aren't any abnormalities in your muscles or any signs of bone defects.”

“Oh, haha! Right! Um, okay!” Caspar obliges and immediately pulls his shirt up and over his head. 

“I need you to scoot off the table and stand for me, please,” Linhardt instructs, glancing over at Caspar's toned back as he moves to watch him hop off the examination table.

Linhardt spends the next couple of minutes examining Caspar's shoulder, guiding him to lift and bend his arm in certain ways to make sure nothing concerning has formed. Caspar jolts a little, softly laughing when Linhardt carefully touches his arm, the sound of his giggles causing Linhardt's heart to swell. Upon glancing at the faint scar Caspar received from his surgery, he feels a little sorrowful, but he keeps himself focused. 

After a couple more stretches and a standing push-up, Linhardt concludes the examination as he jots some notes into Caspar's file. “Well, the good news is there aren't any visible deformities in your muscles, and you still have a strong spine. Your posture is good as well. However, it seems that you currently can't stretch your arm back. I did sense some discomfort in your expression when you tried to bend it earlier.” His voice then softens, his eyes filled with worry. “Does it hurt?” 

“Not entirely. It's tolerable, but it almost feels like… my arm is a fried chicken wing being torn off,” Caspar explains, causing Linhardt to frown. He gives him an apologetic smile, but his eyes are staring down at the floor. “Hey. It's okay. I'm sorry that you have to see me like this.”

“Didn't you already apologize?” Linhardt asks, taking Caspar’s hand in his own. “Caspar, look at me.” As bright blue eyes slowly gaze up towards his own, Linhardt smiles fondly at him. “I believe that you're going to be fine. I know that you will be fine because you have been training so hard. It may take some time for us to see any improvement, but you're making progress. You are strong, Caspar, and I believe that you can do it.”

“Aw, shucks,” Caspar responds, letting out a laugh as an adorable blush paints his cheeks. His eyes begin to twinkle in awe. “Do you really believe in me, Linnie?”

“Wholeheartedly,” Linhardt answers, his smile growing fonder as Caspar laces their fingers together. “I wholeheartedly believe that you will overcome your injury and kick some ass!”

“HELL YEAH! I will overcome this! I'm going to be stronger than I was before, so strong that I am going to kick some ass!” Caspar triumphantly cheers as he lifts their joined hands up into the air. Other patients and doctors in the room are startled by his shouting, their stares causing him to flinch before he mutters an apology. “Haha, oops. Sorry. Inside voice. Inside voice.”

“Premarital hand holding? In the rehabilitation room?” A teasing voice says, surprising both Linhardt and Caspar as Dr. Eisner appears behind them. They let out a chuckle. “How is Caspar doing?”

Regaining his professionalism, Linhardt murmurs an apology to Caspar as he reluctantly lets go of his hand, hiding his amusement when Caspar pouts. “He is doing okay. There seem to be no abnormalities, but he has stated that he still feels discomfort when he bends his arm back. Shall we discuss the examination notes together?”

“Of course,” Dr. Eisner says.

After running through Caspar's check-up and observing Dr. Eisner having him go through a few more tests, Linhardt walks Caspar out of the building. Once they get outside, he takes hold of Caspar's hands. “Are you going to work now?”

“Yep!” Caspar chirps, looking down at their joined hands. “Got a kid's birthday party to help prepare at the cafe. Did you know Little Thiefy is really good at jumping towards the ceiling? He's been helping with the decorations!”

“Wow. A remarkable feat I'd like to see,” Linhardt comments, smiling when Caspar starts swinging their arms. “Well, as much as I want to stay out here and talk with you, I have to get back to work.” He chuckles when Caspar pouts at him again. “You've been strangely pouty today. It'll only be a couple of hours until we see each other back home.”

“A couple of hours is still too long for me. I just want to spend time with you. I also wanted to cheer on Ashe at his second cook-off match today, but work needs me,” Caspar whines, taking a step closer towards him. “But, Linhardt?” Linhardt hums in reply. “You've been holding my hands… during my appointment… and now.”

“I've held your hands before, Caspar,” Linhardt responds, but he watches how Caspar shies away, a deep blush reddening his cheeks. A part of him wants to coo at how cute he's being right now, but he also feels concerned. “Is something the matter?”  
“Um, no… Well, actually...” Caspar begins, but his eyes seem fixated on Linhardt's uniform instead. “I still kind of feel that all of this isn't real… I mean, us. You, me, and Ashe… It's only been roughly a week, but…” He slowly looks up at Linhardt, his cheeks tinted red. “I know with Ashe, he wants to take things slow, and I respect that. I really do. I don't want to make him or even you uncomfortable, but I have this really strong urge… This strong urge t-to…”

“Oh, is that what this is about?” Linhardt inquires, his mind coming to a realization regarding Caspar's strange behavior. Earlier that week, Caspar seemed like he had wanted to embrace both him and Ashe, but he ended up giving them each a gentle pat on the shoulder instead. During the examination, he had noticed some glances towards him. Whenever Linhardt would make eye contact with him, he caught a glimpse of Caspar looking flustered before turning away. There was a brief moment when their faces were mere inches apart from each other. Linhardt swore for a moment that Caspar was hesitating to peck him on the cheek. He admits that he wanted Caspar to kiss him, but they both knew about the consequences and trouble it would cause if they decided to make out in the rehabilitation room. Linhardt understands the reason why Caspar is restraining himself, especially after his confession, but he wants to give him some reassurance. His lips curl into a smirk. “Oh, Caspar. If you wanted to roleplay, you could have waited until we were both home.”

Caspar lets out a high-pitched squeal mixed with a laugh. “That is NOT what I wanted to do!” He then averts his gaze again and mumbles, “Though I won't be opposed to it.”

It is Linhardt's turn to become flustered as his mind starts swimming, certain ideas sending a rush of blood down to his groin. He takes a moment to compose himself before he gives Caspar a soft smile. “You can always ask Ashe if it's okay for you to give him some affection. As for me, I'll gladly accept anything from you. After all, I do miss your hugs.”

“You really like my hugs?” Caspar asks, his eyes twinkling when he looks at Linhardt again.

“Like them? I LOVE them,” Linhardt answers. “And I also love you.”

With the big goofy grin that Linhardt adores so much, Caspar lets go of his hands and pulls him into a strong, but very warm embrace. Returning the hug, Linhardt lets out a contented sigh. Something in his chest flutters when Caspar suddenly plants a soft kiss on his cheek, followed by a whisper. “I love you too, Linhardt.”

Slowly pulling away, Linhardt feels his heart beat faster when he sees the warm gaze Caspar is giving him. Caspar's hand reaches up to cup his cheek, prompting him to nuzzle into his palm. His face grows warmer when Caspar's other hand takes a loose strand of his hair and tucks it behind his ear. The gesture is so intimate, it takes Linhardt a moment to realize their faces are inching closer and closer until their lips touch and lock together into a chaste kiss. The feeling of Caspar's plush lips against his own makes his heart feel like it’s bursting, his chest on fire as they slowly deepen their kiss.

Caspar pulls away for a moment, a bashful smile on his face. “Was that okay?”

Feeling a little dazed, Linhardt hums, feigning thought. “I don't know. Perhaps you should kiss me again.”

“Hahaha, okay!” Caspar complies with a snicker before he gives Linhardt another smooch on the lips.

“Ugh. Get a room. No one needs to see your PDA in the early afternoon,” an older woman grumbles as she passes by. “Goddamn kids these days.”

Pulling away out of shock, both Linhardt and Caspar turn in her direction, but the woman had already entered the hospital.

“Who the hell was that?” Caspar asks.

Heaving out a sigh, Linhardt shakes his head. “Just the chief psychiatrist. She's… always bitter when it comes to seeing couples, but it’s nothing to worry about. I should be heading back to work, though.” He plants a kiss on Caspar's forehead. “See you at home. Have a good time at work.”

“Hahaha, you too, Linnie!” Caspar cheers before he reluctantly leaves him.

Waving goodbye to his boyfriend, Linhardt dreamily sighs before he heads back into the hospital. On his way back to the office, he feels a sudden vibration in his pocket, pulling out his phone to see someone calling him.

But he suddenly freezes.

The person calling is his father.

Taking a deep breath to clear his mind, he swipes the screen to reject the call. After spending a short but wonderful time with Caspar, he really doesn't need anything or anyone to instantly ruin his mood. There’s another buzz in his hand, and he groans when he sees a text notification from his father. He swipes to open it reluctantly.

_Linhardt,_

_I am messaging to let you know that I'll be giving a seminar at your workplace tomorrow. I also want to discuss something important with you._

“Why today of all days,” Linhardt grumbles, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

He isn't sure if he will have enough mental strength to face his father so soon.

“And time!” the announcer says, calling the end of the Showdown's second round. “Let's see the top ten contestants who will make it to the final match! These ten winners will represent the chefs of Faerghus at the Garreg Mach Coliseum!”

As the giant screen in the auditorium begins displaying the results, Ashe clasps his hands together in prayer. He had managed to narrowly beat the clock by meeting this round's dish quota, but it was very nerve-racking. Instead of serving one dish to the general public, he had to serve various other dishes to renowned chefs of Faerghus. He’d been very honored to meet some who came by to judge his cooking, but he’d felt overwhelmed when a few tried to recruit him to train under them. While he now has some places to consider, he is worried about being eliminated. Only five contestants can move on to the final round at Garreg Mach Coliseum as representatives of Faerghus.

Ashe jolts when he hears Yuri whine from a few cooking stations behind him, looking up at the screen to see that he'd been knocked down to 2nd place by a certain chef named Christophe Gaspard. His eyes widen when his name pops up for 3rd place, letting out a sigh of relief. 

After the announcer concludes the day's tournament, it becomes noisy as the audience leaves their seats, other chefs bustle about cleaning up, and news reporters dive in to interview some contestants. Wiping his sweat with a towel, Ashe starts cleaning up his kitchen station. He hears a loud sob coming from a young chef nearby, looking up to see them being comforted by their parents. His attention then turns towards another chef, a winner placed after him, being interviewed, giving their wishes and thanks to their family back home. Watching the exchanges around him somehow makes him feel a little envious. Orphaned at a young age, he never had parents or a family to begin with. He was raised in an orphanage as a child and later on lived by himself in his teens. Aside from the small moments of being cared for by the friends he made along the way, he mostly took care of himself. There was no one to greet him when he came home. There was no one to make food for him when he was too tired to cook. There was no one to wish him goodnight.

The thought of it makes him feel lonely.

“Hey! Hey! Ashe!” a friendly voice calls out to him, followed by a strong smack on his back that startles him. Ashe wheezes before he looks to see Sylvain, with Felix, Ingrid, and Dedue behind him. Sylvain laughs, giving a more gentle pat on his back. “That's not the face of someone who made it to the finals.”

“Oh. Hey, everyone,” Ashe says, greeting his friends with a sheepish smile. He spots a tall blue-hooded person trying to hide behind Dedue, gawking at them in shock when he sees a flash of blond hair. “Dimitri! You came too?”

“Shh! My appearance was meant to be a surprise!” Dimitri hushes.

“Anyone could tell that it's obviously you, boar,” Felix deadpans before he turns to Ashe. “Annette and Mercedes send their regards. Annie has the evening shift at her internship while Mercie has to take care of things with Bylese. Congrats on making it to the finals.”

“Oh, that's okay. Thank you for coming, Dimitri! And thanks, Felix! I'm just glad that you guys are here,” Ashe assures them. “Caspar and Linhardt have work also, but they both told me they're cheering for me in spirit.”

“Damn. Your hot housemates aren't here?” Sylvain asks, mild disappointment on his face. “Linhardt looked so gorgeous the other day. I noticed how they winked at you before you two left. I didn't expect them to be the flirty type. Spill the beans, Ashe! Did you two do anything? Something in celebration for winning the first round?” Ashe splutters, nearly dropping a plate on the floor, but Dedue catches it in time. Sylvain playfully wags his eyebrows. “Eh, Ashe? Did something actually happen?”

Ashe's face turns red. “Well, actually...”

“What?! Seriously?!” Sylvain shouts, only to get smacked on the back of the head by Ingrid. “Ow! Hey! I'm just curious!”

Ingrid tries to scold him, but her mouth is stuffed with food she scoured from Ashe's leftovers.

“Glad to see everyone is enjoying themselves,” Yuri says as he approaches the group. He turns to Ashe. “Bravo on making it to third place, young sparrow. I might have to take this showdown more seriously than ever before since you're catching up to me.”  
“Congratulations to you too, Yuri!” Ashe replies. “Sorry that you weren't able to keep 1st.”

“It was probably due to a mishap I made, but I accept it,” Yuri says, sighing in defeat. “I did not expect him of all people to be participating though. I don't think I even caught sight of him in the first round. He apparently placed in the top ten as well.”  
“I've heard that his father has been observing this competition,” Dedue informs them. “He wasn't one of the judges for this round, but he will be one of the judges for the finals, along with being a recruiter.”

“Christophe Gaspard…” Ashe utters, the name sounding familiar to him. “Where have I heard that name before?” Hearing the increasing volume of voices nearby, his attention is pulled towards a crowd of reporters surrounding a tall, white-haired old man accompanied by a younger man with silver hair. The sight of them causes Ashe's eyes to widen, his heart racing as his mouth drops open. “I-Is th-that who I th-think it is?”

“Oh, right,” Dedue comments, smiling knowingly. “You're a fan of him.”

“I think ‘fan’ is an understatement,” Yuri adds, gently closing Ashe's mouth. “Ashe? Honey? You're staring.”

Snapping out of his awestruck daze, Ashe lets out a nervous laugh. “Oh, sorry. I just never imagined that Lonato Gildas Gaspard would be here. I've watched his cooking shows since I was a child. There was always something homey about the way he cooks, how delicate and careful he is when he handles his ingredients. Seeing him here, I…” He puts his hand on his chest and takes a deep breath, calming himself down a little. He looks back towards Lonato, who is heartily laughing with Christophe in the middle of their interview. Taking a short glance at Christophe, he stiffens when he notices him looking in his direction. Rather than having an intimidating air for someone who reached 1st place, the smile he gives Ashe looks friendly and sincere. As the interview reaches its conclusion, the reporters disperse to find other chefs. Ashe stiffens again when he realizes Lonato is looking towards him. The expression on his face is unreadable until a soft grin relaxes his features. Lonato then turns around, walking with Christophe towards the exit of the auditorium.

Feeling a little weak in the legs, Ashe falls to his knees, but Yuri and Sylvain end up helping him off the floor. He lets out a laugh. “Did you see that? Lonato… He looked at me. Christophe too.”

“They most certainly did,” Yuri says with a sigh before he punches his fist into his palm. “Oh, just you wait, Christophe Gaspard. I will be reclaiming my place in the finals. I'm going to wipe that smarmy little grin off of your face!” He then pats Ashe on the shoulder. “Put up a fight for me too, will you, sparrow?”

“Of course!” Ashe promises, feeling pumped up as well. 

While Ashe is surprised about managing to get to the finals, the thought of representing Faerghus in the huge coliseum at Garreg Mach makes him excited and nervous at the same time. He is filled with anticipation to see how far he can manage to go during the showdown, but he still feels at a loss for what goals he wants to pursue in his career.

For now, he just needs to prepare for the finals, hoping he can find his answer along the way.

Humming a happy tune on his way home, Caspar is carrying some leftover dessert from the cat cafe while holding Thiefy inside his jacket. The birthday party he’d helped out with left him in a good mood. A lot of the kids had gathered by the counter and watched him decorate some desserts for them. Thiefy entertained them with his many tricks, which caused the kids to squeal and cheer. The birthday kid even invited Caspar and Thiefy to join them in one of their party games, filling the whole cafe with laughter and fun. 

His voice cracking from attempting a high note, Caspar giggles when Thiefy paws at his mouth. “Hahaha! Hey! I tried!” The cat meows at him before curling against his chest. He lets out a long yawn, causing Caspar to laugh. “Haha. Aw, I'm a little tired too. Don't worry, we're almost home!”

Upon reaching the gate of the penthouse, Caspar opens it and heads inside. As soon as he closes the gate behind him, Thiefy starts hissing inside his jacket, causing him to jolt. “Whoa! Hey! What's wrong?”

“Bergliez.”

“HOLY KNOLL'S HOODED CANNOLI!” Caspar shrieks, but he lets out a sigh of relief when his landlord approaches him. “Oh. Hey, Mr. Hrym.” Thiefy hisses again before he jumps out of the jacket and runs off. “Hey, Thiefy! Where are you going?!” Watching the cat go up the stairs, Caspar scratches his head. “Sorry about him. I don't know why he's like that around you when he's warmed up to other people.” He then takes notice of his landlord's attire, the tall man dressed in green overalls with a beige checkered bandana adorning his head. His hands have gardening gloves with kitten faces stitched on them. Caspar even spots a patch of dirt on his face too. “What's with the getup, Mr. Hrym? Are you gardening or something?”

“Yes,” Mr. Hrym utters before he points towards Caspar's feet. “You're standing on the fertilizer.”

Looking down to where his landlord is pointing, Caspar widens his eyes to see a small brown bag under him. “Huh? Whoops!” He hops off of it. “Sorry!” 

Snatching the fertilizer from the ground, Mr. Hrym hoists it under his arm. Caspar follows him to see where he's carrying it, stopping to see a line of dirt plots in the yard. “Oh, wow!” he chirps excitedly, seeing tiny sprouts already planted in the plots. “This garden actually looks great! I can't wait to see your plants grow!” 

His landlord grunts in response, quietly patting some fertilizer into the soil. “They will die within a day.”

“What?” Caspar replies, confused. “Why would they die so quickly? You just planted them.” Mr. Hrym responds with a sigh before dusting his hands and retreating into his home. “Hey! Wait!” Caspar calls after him. “Aren't you going to water them?”  
Mr. Hrym gives him a solemn look and points up to the sky. “It will rain shortly. I advise that you head upstairs to let your little monster inside.”

“Rain?” Caspar utters, freezing when he feels something cold and wet splash on his nose. He looks up to see the sky turning cloudy and dark. Instantly on high alert, he thanks his landlord for the warning and runs up to his own home, where Thiefy is meowing and scratching at the door. “Sorry, Thiefy! I'm here! Don't worry!” He takes out his keys from his pockets, his hands shaking when he hears thunder. “I'll get us in! I'll- AH!” Fumbling his keys out of his hands, he watches them fall onto the ground. His body tenses up when the rain starts pouring, getting him and the cat wet. Thiefy begins to cry, but Caspar remains frozen in fear. He never was a fan of storms, especially in the few instances when he would see lightning striking trees and telephone poles as a kid. 

“Caspar?”

Caspar lets out a tiny shriek at the voice, twirling around to see Ashe standing there with an umbrella in his hand. “A-Ashe?” he stammers, still jittery from the storm. His eyes widen in realization once the umbrella hovers over him. “Oh…! It is you! Boy, am I glad to see you!”

“You and Thiefy are soaking wet,” Ashe observes, worried. “Let's head in before you two get sick.”

“Oh. Um, right! Haha… I dropped my keys,” Caspar replies with a sheepish laugh. He stiffens when he hears a soft mewl, looking down to see the cat handing him the keys with his mouth. “Oh! Haha. Thanks, Little Thiefy!”

Once he gets the door open, Caspar rushes inside after the cat, stomping his shoes dry on the doormat before he slips them off. He squawks when Thiefy shakes himself off like a dog, laughing when the cat stalks off on his hind legs towards the laundry room. As Ashe steps into the house and closes the door behind him, Caspar lets out a sigh of relief. “Whew. We're inside! Inside the safety of our home.” The sound of thunder rumbles again, and he clutches at the back of the sofa. “Well, for the most part.”

“Let me make some tea for you, Caspar,” Ashe offers, taking off his coat and shoes before walking into the kitchen. “Why don't you wash up while I also prepare dinner? I'm sure a nice hot bath will warm you up.”

“Um,” Caspar utters as he sheds his wet jacket. He's unsure that he should be using any water during a storm. “No, it's fine! Some tea would be good.” He feels something soft brush against his leg, looking down to see Thiefy dragging a towel for him. “Aw, thanks, little guy!” He jumps again when a loud clap of thunder is heard, toppling over the sofa and landing on the cushions.

Ashe rushes over to the living area, giving him a look of concern. “Is everything alright, Caspar? Are you scared of thunderstorms?”

“Scared?” Caspar repeats, forcing out a laugh. “Me? I'm not scared. The thunder is just really-” Another boom, and he topples off of the sofa and lands on the floor with a thump. “Okay! Okay! I'm scared, alright? I've been scared of storms since I was a kid! Go ahead and laugh!” He stiffens when a towel is placed on top of his head, looking up to see Ashe gently drying his hair with it. Taken aback by the gesture, Caspar feels his face grow warm. “Ashe? You're not laughing at me?”

“Why would I laugh at you?” Ashe asks, lips curling into a soft smile. “It's okay to be afraid of storms. I'm sure there are other people who feel the same.”

“Really?” Caspar responds, his heart fluttering in his chest. “You don't think it's stupid?”

“Of course not,” Ashe reassures him, taking the towel off Caspar's head. “Everyone has things they're afraid of. I mean… I have an irrational fear of ghosts and other supernatural things. I know they aren't real, but…” He pauses, nervousness on his face. “I've seen some things.”

“Whoa...” Caspar utters before he sighs in relief. “Well, that's reassuring. Not you seeing ghosts, I mean, but haha…” He gives Ashe a sad smile. “I've always been told that being scared of things makes you weak. My dad always scolded me for crying during thunderstorms when I was a kid. He often told me things like how I should 'man up' while my older brother would just bully or make fun of me for being scared. One time they locked me out of the house during an awful storm under the impression that I would face my fear, but I never did. They both called me a weakling afterwards… Said that I can never accomplish anything if I'm not strong. I don't actually believe in the crap they said, but sometimes I still think about it. Sometimes I think that maybe they're right. Maybe I'm not strong. Maybe I-” He lets out an “oof” when Ashe hugs him, his mouth agape in shock, but he slowly sinks into the warmth. “...Ashe?”

“You're not weak,” Ashe responds, his arms tightening around Caspar. “Your father and brother were awful to you, Caspar. I'm sorry you had to go through that. Whatever they said before, they're wrong. You are strong. You're the strongest person I know. Even if you're afraid of something, it's normal. We are human, after all.”

“Ashe...” Caspar says, his eyes tearing up at Ashe's words. His words feel comforting, even soothing, perhaps because they’re the words of validation he’d wanted to hear all this time. He embraces Ashe in return, letting out a few sobs before he cries his heart out. Ashe gently rubs his back, telling him that it's okay, that he's safe now. 

And Caspar has never been so thankful for him. 

After calming down, Caspar wipes his face with the back of his arm. He lets out a bitter laugh. “I don't talk to them anymore. My dad kinda disowned me anyway, and I would rather not deal with my brother.” Ashe frowns when he pulls away, his eyes filled with sorrow. Caspar then perks himself up, taking Ashe's hands into his own. “Ashe… Thank you. Everything is okay now though! My former coach is like a mom to me! Well, she and her wife are like moms, so hahaha! I have two moms!”

“Oh, that's actually pretty sweet,” Ashe says, a smile returning to his face.

“And I have you and Linhardt!” Caspar adds. “You two are my housemates, my boyfriend and joyfriend, and my family!”

“Your... family?” Ashe utters, looking surprised.

“Yep! You two are my fam- AH!” Caspar exclaims as thunder booms again. He ends up clinging onto Ashe, trembling from the scare. He lets out a shaky laugh. “H-haha… Sorry, Ashe. I… I know you wanted to take things slow.”

“It's fine, Caspar. If a hug helps put you at ease, I don't mind,” Ashe reassures him. The cat starts meowing at them. “You should probably change your clothes though. I'll go back to making some tea for you.”

“Oh… Right...” Caspar sighs, reluctantly pulling away, but he stops when Ashe swipes a thumb under his eye. It catches him off guard. “Huh… wha?”

“Sorry,” Ashe apologizes with a chuckle. “You had an eye booger.”

“Oh, hahaha.” Caspar laughs it off. “Thanks!” Ashe doesn't move for a moment, his palm still cupping his face. Caspar stares at him blankly, but he slowly starts admiring how handsome he is, with his cute little nose, his adorable mess of freckles, and his beautiful citrine eyes.

His heart skips a beat when Ashe utters his name.

“Caspar?”

Realizing that their faces are inches apart, Caspar swallows. “Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Eyes widening at the request, Caspar stills for a moment. Ashe asked if he can kiss him? Ashe wants to kiss him? Registering that in his mind, he nods. “Okay.”

And so, Ashe does.

Ashe kisses him.

And Caspar kisses him back.

In that moment, the storm is quiet, their heartbeats all they can hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Have a nice day/evening! Remember to drink water! Stay safe!
> 
> stinky twitter plug (although the moment I post this I am currently in a semi-hiatus right now but whenever I return from it, it will be an art/writing dump): [myrmcheck](https://twitter.com/myrmcheck)


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